


Snacks and Letters

by salazar_kat, Sionna_Raven



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-06-29
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2017-10-20 20:41:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 88
Words: 162,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/216898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salazar_kat/pseuds/salazar_kat, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sionna_Raven/pseuds/Sionna_Raven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two years after the war Sirius is back. He needs to tie up loose ends to get a life. There's one person who not only has the answers he craves, but also seems to understand the questions, Severus Snape. Desperate times call for desperate measures. It all starts with a letter...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sirius: Asking a favour

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Snacks and Letters](https://archiveofourown.org/works/216898) by [salazar_kat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/salazar_kat/pseuds/salazar_kat), [Sionna_Raven](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sionna_Raven/pseuds/Sionna_Raven). 



> It all started with an attempt to cheer up my friend Salazar_Kat.
> 
> "When you feel better again I have a 'Gryffindorish' challenge for you. What about a teamwork for a piece of Snack? AU-both-survived correspondence, you write Severus, I do Sirius and we see what happens? Nothing planned, we just let them develope their relationship wherever it takes them? Think about it; there's no need to rush. I have an idea for an opening letter from Sirius."
> 
> All chapters and paragraphs marked as 'Severus' are by Salazar_Kat, all chapters and paragraphs marked as 'Sirius' by me.

12 Grimmauld Place, London

Snape.

Yeah, it's me. I'm back. I'm sure you already heard the good news, though you haven't sent me a welcome card, yet.

I admit I also have failed to sent you my congratulations for having tricked your master and his pet snake. Such lack of formalities should not stand between us, should it?

Don't get your hopes too high; I'm not writing to apologise to you. What for?

It's just that …. everybody tells me, after all, that time I got to tie up the loose ends of my life. I missed out on quite a lot of what the others call LIFE. It's funny that you of all people seem to be the only one able to fill me in on the details. I've already talked to Sluggy and Minerva, even to Hagrid. They have been nice and polite, caring and sympathetic, but they weren't in it like we were. They're too old to understand. Everybody seems to be either too old or too young to understand....

Their trying to almost makes it worse.

All right, let's get to business. Harry told me about what Regulus had done. The little idiot. Why couldn't he come to me and ask for help?

You knew him. Can you tell me? Tell me about my little brother? What was really going on in his mind? Who was he?

I don't like asking you for a favour. I guess you'll really enjoy the thought of having me at your mercy. Well, at least you can't call me a coward for not daring to ask, can you?

All better men and women died; you'll agree with that? James, Remus, Regulus and Lily deserved to live more than the two of us, but we alone actually made it. Death isn't fair.

For the respect for the dead I ask you to tell me what happened, happened to Regulus, to all of us. I hope you can find such a thing like respect for the dead within yourself to answer me.... honestly. Our mutual dislike will spare me the embarrassment of another pile of white lies.

 

Never yours

Sirius Black

 


	2. Severus: A wary letter

 

7 Spinner’s End

Attn: S. Black:

Whoever said Death was fair, Black? Wherever did you get such a quaint notion? Certainly, I will tell you about Regulus if you can in all your immaturity sit still for long enough and take your ridiculous boots off the table. I am merely predicting your actions. You were stripped of an adult life, I cannot expect maturity from a whipped puppy, nor do I feel sorry for your barking madness.

Why would I apologise? For what, existing, my biggest fault? I sneer at your superior ‘morality.’ I didn’t find your continued existence a cause to celebrate, either. I find you as loathsome as the day we met on the Hogwarts Express. As to everyone either being too young or too old to really understand – I must concur. Regulus could have taken these owls if he hadn’t been taken himself, by Death, which as you pointed out is patently unfair and can be no other way.

I too wish Regulus had asked, but as any true Death Eater can attest, just being one of the Dark Lord’s minions in itself means being alone, and trusting no one. And when one stands against the Dark Lord more bravely than I, who had Dumbledore, and stand completely alone one can trust not even oneself. It’s a constant guessing game.

You know of the Dark Lord and second guessing, as you trusted no one but that vile cretin by the name of James Potter, who did not fully trust you. Ah what a marvellous bickering couple you were.

Your brother had far more courage than foolhardiness, yet it was his mission, and he completed it to the best of his ability. Potter has told you Kreacher’s story. How are things at your mother’s house, are we still cleaning? It is there I continue the answer. When you ran away like a sulking child Regulus played Wizard Chess with me, staying with him during the winter holidays. He was very good.

His overall strategies were sound, but he was prone to making small tactical errors and then losing confidence, something that haunted him during Quidditch at school. Your lovely _Marauders_ didn’t instil any confidence, nor did you mean to, yet he still stole the Cup for the serpents from the lion’s den. He was proud of this achievement and most of all did it to impress you and tell you off all in one fell swoop. That was Regulus’ life story. Impress the impossible to please brother, and tell him where to go.

At school Regulus excelled at Transfiguration and was fairly bright, but didn’t show much talent as he rarely applied himself. He studied only for exams, and this still landed him in the top ten of his year. He was skilled, but only in last minute attempts to honour the name of Black.

I am not giving you this information so you can wallow in misery and especially not set your mind at ease. I give it because Regulus asked me to, I am _not_ doing you a favour. I am loyal past death to those who deserve it, those who I respect. Count yourself out. And yes, lie no white lies and I will spare the tar and feathers.

With all due animosity,  
Severus Snape


	3. Severus: Curious Postcript

7 Spinner’s End

  
Attn: S. Black, again:

I would like to add a postscript- or a pre-emptive strike. Potter, Weasley and Granger told me of your unfortunate survival. They did not tell me of how you robbed the drapery of your death. Out of sheer unwillingness to hear you still walk and talk, I refused to believe in your survival until Potter said I could shortly expect post from you and your narcissistic owl which loves to preen almost as much as you and Gilderoy Lockhart.

How did you survive? For power lies in knowledge, and seeing as you have the knowledge I would hate to rob you of the opportunity to exert power over me. Read sarcasm. I wish to know secondly how you concealed your continued existence until your white rear end was safe. Potter won’t explain properly, he tells me it is your business.

You remember from Hogwarts as a youth: your business and sneaking about are _my_ business, for I make it such. You hid like a whinging child and you expect praise?

The Death Room should have claimed you, and you are a coward more so than perhaps even Pettigrew – but your life remained intact. Yet you claim life was stolen from those of us who survived – perhaps Regulus, and of course Lily as you suggested, were worthier of survival but I do not count the rest of our generation as more worthy than us. I use “us” in the loosest possible sense of the term. You claim to have had no real life. War brings out the best and the worst. May you always have the worst while I best you.

You are at my mercy, yes, as I am Headmaster and you are a mongrel, if not in the blood sense, certainly in what my quill thinks, directed by my mind, and aimed at you. Mongrel. You wished information and I (very reluctantly) gave it. Turnabout is unfair play, and you must play along if you are the brazen Gryffindor I believe you are. You were never tricky, nimble or sly, always the loudmouth, the braggart, the false dominance.

How I wish you would break your habit of treating me as an inferior, but then, I know you are my inferior, and it is a cause for joy for me to let you know exactly where you stand – amongst the amoebas, the bottom feeders. True you never loved the Dark Arts, but that isn’t strength, just lack of ability, cunning and power. There will always be a Dark Lord of sorts, and I will not claim the name. I do not believe in wizarding supremacy in such an infantile way. I have never had a problem letting people who are beneath me know it.

Tell your story, Black. I may yet stop yawning.

With great distaste,  
Severus Snape.


	4. Sirius: An answer and a deal

12, Grimmauld Place, London

 

Snape,

thank you very much for telling me so many new and interesting _facts_ about my brother _._ It's such a pity that the new things weren't interesting and the interesting things not really new. You mentioned spending Christmas break with my family after I moved out, so you've met my dear old mum. You don't really think that she left any chance that I could have missed a single one of Regulus' academics achievements? For your information, it was me who taught him the basics of wizard's chess, but somehow I seem to have lost the taste for pushing around pawns and letting wooden knights fight my battles over the years.

You really made my day by reminding me of our 4th year when Regulus snatched the cup from Gryffindor. What a pity I've missed the crucial game while scrubbing the desks in the potions classroom…;

I can't remember why exactly. Was it the Cornish pixies ~~James and~~ ~~~~~~~~ I let loose in Slughorn's office or the Natterjack toad which jumped in Dorcas Montague's pea soup?

It became a legend. Slytherin won 150 to 140 against Gryffindor, correct? Which means that, ….. let me count: you let the quaffle through the hooks 14 times, 9 goals scored by James alone? He only scored better against Hufflepuff the year before. And Caradoc Dearborn my stand-in as seeker was out for the last 10 minutes of the match, hit by a bludger? But credit, where it is due; Slytherin won the cup. Did you know that Reggie kept that snitch? Molly found it while cleaning the house for Harry to live in during his Auror training. Which should answer one of your questions. To my surprise, Molly and Ginny worked a miracle and made this place halfway inhabitable. It's a bit large for one person to live in. On the other hand, I'm still not used to bright sunlight and don't feel too comfortable in narrow spaces. So in a way it's just perfect for me – have I really said that?

Which leads to your main question. Still up to your eyeballs into learning every Dark Art trick available? Sorry to disappoint you - no, I'm not - there hasn't been any Dark trick, not even real magic been involved in my escape from...... beyond the veil. It happened due to a series of coincidences. The first coincidence was that Bellatrix hit me with a Petrificus Totalus of all possible curses during our fight at the Ministry, a body of stone cannot die. The passing through the arc at the Death Room should have done the trick and freed my living soul from the body. but, second coincidence, during the years in Azkaban my soul seems to have developed an unusual attachment to my body. I passed out when the veil touched me and the instinctive part of my soul simply wouldn't let go. When I woke up, I was somewhere in the middle of nowhere, still petrified. I don't need to tell you that the curse doesn't wear off; it has to be either lifted by a counter-spell or undone by the caster's death. I was awake, aware of myself and my surroundings, imprisoned in the statue which was me. Luckily time doesn't matter in Nowhere-land. I think I saw others, really dead souls float by; some looked vaguely familiar. The dead didn't notice me. They were only passing through my nowhere to a somewhere I could not make out. Then I felt a pull. It was Harry using the resurrection stone. I saw James and Lily and Remus, they were together and happy and .... dead. I wasn't or was I? The others didn't seem to notice. Well, now I think they didn't see or hear me at all. There was Harry! He obviously believed I was dead like the others. He saw me; he had called on me, so I did what he needed me to do and said what he wanted to hear. Did I lie? Well, I was starting to believe I was dead, so I was telling the truth I had felt no pain in dying. We walked by his side through the forest. There were dementors, but they feed on the living, not the dead.

Just when I was about to make up my mind that I was really dead, Harry dropped the stone and I was back in my undead body and the others were gone. After a while, a second or an hour or two, I could move again. My heart was pumping blood through my veins; I was breathing. My hands felt, felt warm. I was very much alive and Bellatrix was dead. Souls were floating by as I stood up and walked without direction. Those souls were heading somewhere, but I couldn't follow. Wherever I went, no matter how long I walked, I still ended up Nowhere. I tried one last thing and transformed into Padfoot. Just like I did years ago; nothingness seemed easier to endure without human thought. I felt the non-ground below my paws; stretched my legs and ran; pricked my ears and listened and sniffed. There was sound far away and there was a smell. The faint scent of life. I followed, the scent got stronger and stronger and all of a sudden there was something. Soft and moving, it smelled real and it felt real. I leapt through the veil and gave a couple of white-haired Unspeakables the shock of their life. I didn't stop to give them the chance to figure out what dark creature had come out of the other world. I knew from my last encounter with Harry that years had passed since I passed away. The fact that I knew my dear cousin was dead could not tell me if Harry had succeeded. I decided not to take any chances and leave the Ministry at once. I heard people scream at my sight. “The Grim!” As I ran through the endless corridors, I smelled something familiar. Harry! He was alive and here at the Ministry! This could only mean one thing. We had won! And then I saw him, a grown-up man pointing his wand at me. I wagged my tail in sheer joy, jumped and was hit by a stunning spell.

This is the story of my resurrection. I told you there's nothing to learn from it. You didn't tell me what I really asked for; I couldn't tell you how to cheat death. We're quit.

As for calling me a coward again. Your feeble taunt didn't work the last time or do you really think that it was you who made me go with the Order that night? Not even you could be that stupid.

Someone who still doesn't dare to say or write Voldemort's name surely isn't qualified to judge another man's courage. Your Dark Lord is gone for good or are you afraid of ghosts, Snivellus?

Anyway, my initial question still stands. If Regulus wasn't just stupid and we obviously agree that he wasn't, what made a basically good lad join the Death Eaters. If you're not sure why he did, I'm indiscreet enough to ask why you did. You're not even pureblood or a complete maniac like our cousin Bella. Believe it or not, I really want to understand.

Here's the deal: I ask you a question, you answer and ask a question in return which I will answer as best as I can. Tit for tat. Don't pretend I don't know anything you want to know. Trust me I do...

Sirius

P.S. Give the poor owl a treat. You nearly scared it to death last time. You've never shown great talent to handle birds.


	5. Severus: Letter # 3

Headmaster’s Office, Hogwarts

  
Your owl found me in mid-flight to Hogwarts, from Spinner’s End. Why do we not both deny the houses of our forebearers? I dread having to pack that many books, for one, and it is nice to be surrounded by them in this enclosed space I may call my own little place where I cannot lose sight of my beginnings. Do you still enjoy the serpents everywhere in Grimmauld Place as much I as I enjoy the place where my mother committed suicide? I thought not. But we still live where home is, despite everything. I’m sneering at both of us in equal measure. To quote your sentiment that I actually agree with, Black, “So in a way it’s just perfect for me – have I really said that?”

Interesting way to evade the curtain call. So you weren’t asphyxiated by lack of air or maimed by a broken soul like, yes I still refer to him as the Dark Lord, was broken. You nosed your way out by coincidence, sheer dumb luck, Minerva would say. I wasn’t expecting great secrets of life and death and how to evade it. There are many ways to evade death, and one thing we both have in common, loath though I am to admit it, is that neither of us fears death as much as life as a coward. That’s why I love to needle you, simply to elicit a reaction I would use if I were more emotional. They are curious observations, watching you being poked and prodded by me, but most if the time _I mean it!_ Every venomous word.

There it is, what I expected, you must rub my nose in my Keeping abilities in my first ever match. But you must remember we played other teams to get the Cup, and I only let in two Ravenclaw goals and only four from Hufflepuff. And they tried. The reserve Gryffindor Seeker was chance enough to possibly beat, you were a decent Seeker. However, consider the overall point standings we were still one hundred and eighty points ahead when Regulus and I lifted that Cup to a chorus of moans and boos from most of the school. As you rightly say, credit, where it is due; Slytherin won the Cup.

Interesting that Regulus kept the snitch, he let it fly around the common room for days on end, I do remember that, and I do also delight in remembering that we won the House Cup that year by a margin of over fifty points. And your reference to my treatment of birds- I do not know how to treat them in any other way. If I have to give up myself to be attached to such a chick I will not be doing it anytime soon. And you know nothing about who I am, other than a foe. I rather like that arrangement, as friendly as this letter _appears_ to be.

You asked if I am afraid of ghosts. The imprint of a departed soul. If the Dark Lord were capable of coming back as a ghost, yes, I would fear him as is only sensible. I would respect his capabilities, if not his lack of conscience and other assorted sociopathic melodrama. I once found that compelling, and so did Regulus. The idea of wizarding rule over Muggles and restrictions on Muggle-borns, the power inherent in that was very appealing. Regulus and I were fools. We fell for the wool-over-the-eyes attraction of base cruel instinct. It didn’t have to make sense emotionally or mentally. It just had to be seductive to two teenagers who played around the darkest aspects of life...and death, too.

You know, Black, what Slytherins are, you grew up around us. You know the traits, the negative mostly, but the positive, that exists too. You know what a lure ambition is, how we go to any lengths and use any means to get what we are entitled to. I am not a pureblood (like you) and not a maniac (like you) and not a pureblood-maniac like Bellatrix. Why did I become a Death Eater, now that I cannot answer for Regulus?

It offered me almost limitless opportunity for dark experiments and to be able to make others fear me. Signs of weakness, I know, the weak are easy prey for the Dark Lord and those like him, as Dumbledore fell for Grindelwald. I did not know what I was getting into but I did enjoy most of it immensely, for I knew I had an “out” in my maternal grandfather having taught me Occlumency very well and some small talent in Legilimency. When they fed me Vertiaserum and asked me questions about loyalty, I answered their questions well- because I answered them sarcastically. I was loyal to no one but myself.

You know what Potter told you no doubt, about my turning on the Dark Lord because of Lily. She was never perfect but she was my good angel, the love I aspired to, which Dumbledore rightly said is the best weapon against the Dark Lord and those like him. Dumbledore. Here is my question in turn. Did he use you as well without confiding in you? Did he trust other Order members over me in the end? Did he ever do anything but force us to do battle with each other under guise of civility? How much influence did he have on you? For he had me, and Potter, blind and groping and stumbling in his poorly told and well-constructed plans. Tell me about Dumbledore, for I am beginning to yawn again.

With great irritation,  
Severus Snape

PS your owl’s photograph of a Muggle in a bikini was not amusing


	6. Sirius: Letter # 3

 

“Toujour Pur”

 

12 Grimmauld Place, London

 

Snape,

since you are so intent to dwell on my doggy nature, you understand that it took me a while to respond. Padfoot was 'rolling on the floor laughing' as Muggles say. How could I for one minute forget what a source of entertainment your existence provides?

You of all people ask me about Dumbledore? Last time I've seen you, you prided yourself on being his right-hand man and most important weapon in our struggle against Voldemort. I can assure you he told every single one of us that he trusted you completely until we started to sing along with it. From what Harry told me Dumbledore did indeed trust you on your word and on your word alone.... twice. We were absolutely sure that he made you keep quiet about Moony's secret; I mean magically made you. Obviously not, judging by the casual way you informed your students about Remus' condition the morning after my escape from Hogwarts. I don't get it. You didn't tell anyone, not even Lily? To warn her? Not even Malfoy, when Dumbledore hired a werewolf to teach your godson? Or am I imagining too much and the Silencing Spell just wore off, when about half a dozen people more found out?

The second time he even trusted your judgement over James' and Lily's. What did you tell him? That you knew for sure I was the traitor in the Order? What reason do you have to complain about not being in Dumbledore's trust?

 

What is was like to be among the chosen of the first Order of the Phoenix? You very well remember that during the first years of Voldemort's rise, the Order acted in complete stealth, much more than your lot. Dumbledore had his old friends and those who owed him a favour, his brother Aberforth, Elphias Doge, Mad-Eye, Hagrid and Mundungus Fletcher. They mainly observed the movements of Voldemort and his early followers. A handful of civil rights activists or like my mum called them 'blood-traitors' stood against the general attitude of the indifferent public and Dumbledore was their unofficial spokesman at the Wizengamot and other magic institutions, the Weasleys, the Prewitts, the Bones and McKinnons. Around '75-'76, when it became obvious for everyone who had eyes to see that the Death Eaters started recruiting at Hogwarts, rumours reached us that the good side was doing the same. The Longbottoms, Dearborn, Vance started to hint at being asked to join a secret order, just before they finished their NEWTS. James and I were thrilled. James' future as a Quidditch pro and my wish to be an Auror became secondary. There was no doubt that we would be top choice of our year; Moony had his special condition to recommend him and Peter ….. his own inadequacy protected him from suspicion and he couldn't do any harm. How very wrong we were. We made a pact that Dumbledore had to take all four of us or get none.

Hexing every student who annoyed us, just because we could was beginning to bore us anyway towards the end of our 6th year. There was the promise of a more challenging hunt and more dangerous game, if we showed ourselves capable of a little more discipline. You ~~were~~ are a special case. 

In addition, Remus convinced James that Lily might be more inclined to accept his invitations for an ice-tea at Madam Puddifoot's if we let go of this childish habit. You knew that Lily and Remus were friends since she found out about him in our 4th year? Her unreserved kindness towards our friend endeared her even more to James. 

Dumbledore showed himself the perfect old-fashioned gentleman; it was ladies first. Lily was asked before us. Rightfully so, she was not only the brightest witch of our year, but the threat from the Death Eaters concerned her personally. James was more than willing to be her champion and I followed his lead.

We did not question Dumbledore's trust nor his orders; he entrusted us with protecting the wizarding world against those Dark Wizards at the front line. What more did we need to know?

 

You're right, Snape I know what Slytherins are, growing up in a snake pit taught me. Your praised 'real friendship' is a sham. You admitted that none of the Death Eaters trusted the other. Can you even imagine what it means to be such friends as James, Lily and I were, trusting each other with our lives?

You needed to steal a second-hand reminder of the real thing for your peace of mind, because you never got one yourself. By the way, I want my property back. I might be inclined to give you a Gemini copy of another one though if you ask nicely. I have plenty of pictures of Lily.

 

Sirius

P.S.: I've run out of note paper lately. I simply thought you might prefer a nice picture on the back of my last letter to my mother's crested parchment, but as you like it....


	7. Severus: Letter #4

Hogwarts, Headmaster’s Office

  
Sneerius,

(or did you think only Gryffindors taunt others with names? Other than mudblood)

You obviously think I am speaking of a surface Dumbledore here. He is far more ambiguous and complex than a wizard such as yourself can think of, venerating him as you do.

I admit Dumbledore took me in, and though it was not his intention necessarily to kill me, he certainly tried to weight me down with the Deathstick. He used me in a multiplicity of ways and I am certain I am not the only bitter person who has touched this parchment. Certainly, I prided myself on being a key agent in bringing the Dark Lord down, and I see that no matter how I moved, Dumbledore had a plan for it. But sometimes plans backfire. And sometimes Dumbledore is unconcerned with such trivial matters such as locking up a free man and outfoxing the cunning man.

I should have noticed the former Headmaster closing his eyes all those times not as a characteristic gesture, but a lack of willingness to give me pertinent information or lie outright.

Here I thought you might know what Slytherins are, but you have tainted picture of Slytherin which can only match my dislike of nearly everything Gryffindor. Slytherins are fast friends; Death Eaters are not, generally speaking. I trusted Regulus, and again, you seem to be unable to rid yourself of the notion that Slytherins are all, or nearly all, Death Eaters. Some were simply too cunning to fall for the Dark Lord’s lies.

You ~~were~~ are a rat’s anus, perhaps not so much with Lily to temper the group, as in school, but now you friends are all dead...what do we have? Each other? Ha! James Potter was still hexing me in 7th year – he wasn’t hexing others indiscriminately anymore, but I was a special case as you stated so nicely. You fool no one but yourself in saying the opposite. And you are trying to make a special case of me again, which you pointed out with your “correction” in writing, and I refuse outright to play your games.

You expect me to bow my head and ask for pictures of Lily that you hold over me like a carrot to a horse?

I don’t take bait so easily.

I have something of yours? I’ll let you have what you deserve, worry not. And I prefer the ‘toujours pur’ stationery.

Irately,

Severus Snape

You didn’t answer my questions either. We’re both shrubbery designers – good at hedging.


	8. Sirius: Letter #4

12 Grimmauld Place, London

 

Snape,

what a pity that you take my friendly offer so badly. I was just trying to be n ~~oble~~ ice. 

 

It was you who told me to judge Slytherins from growing up among them. I did just that. I do know not all of them were Death Eaters. My parents, for example, were not; it didn't make them any more likeable. I am the one and only Gryffindor Black, but before me, several members of my family, all Slytherin, turned their back on blood prejudice and the Dark Arts. In other words, those good Slytherins like my cousin Andromeda, my uncle Alphard and even one of Phineas Nigellus' sons turned their back on what their house stands for.

There's the one Not-a-Death-Eater Slytherin I will never ever forget, Barty Crouch!

For some the sorting may have come too soon before they made up their mind. The others are just snakes.

I remember that Lily once said, if you had not been so adamant about making it into Slytherin, even you could have made a decent Ravenclaw and had never been so much into the Dark Arts. We disagreed and I still don't see any reason to change my mind.

 

You think I don't understand Dumbledore's complex character? You are wrong; you don't understand. Dumbledore was the greatest sorcerer of our times and he believed that there are causes so great that they are worth sacrificing everything and yes, everyone. We agreed with him. We all were ready to die for the cause and on the position, Dumbledore put us on. I don't deny that we sometimes wished he would confide in us a little bit more; we were absolutely sure that even know we were meant to die for the greater good on a certain mission would not have changed our mind. In the end, we believed that he knew best and withholding his plans from us was to protect us – mainly from our own inferior judgement.

You mention yourself along with Harry  
  
_"blind, groping, stumbling in Dumbledore's poorly told and well constructed plans”._  
  
  
Have you spoken to Harry about that? He doesn't look on it the way you do. He doesn't blame Dumbledore for expecting him to fulfill his destiny, knowing that sometimes even love for another person is less important than the greater good. Dumbledore loved Harry and Harry still loves the old wizard.  


Why do I try to explain this to you? You never had a clue what we were fighting for.

I'm not as stupid as you think. Dumbledore made mistakes; he was only human. He believed your hateful lies about me with terrible consequences. James and Lily had naturally chosen him as their secret keeper if not our friendship had compelled them to make a point of trusting me against Dumbledore's false accusations.

Hoping that our little 'question & answer' game is still on: what was it that made you and unfortunately everyone else believes that I could have turned to Voldemort and even worse that I could have betrayed James or Lily?

Don't give me that _'capable of murder at the age of 16'_ nonsense again. I tried to scare the hell out of you when I sent you down that tunnel to face a werewolf. I thought wetting your pants considering you limited choice of spare ones might stop you from following us for a while. I had no idea that the door could break and the werewolf could come after you. Repeating it, to make sure it does penetrate your thick skull at last.  **I** tried to scare you; James and Remus were **not** in on the prank.

Sneerius Black (I quite like to sneer at you)


	9. Severus: Letter #5

Headmaster’s Office, Hogwarts

Sirius Blacker than coal,

I am so loath to have a different view from what is your strange version of reality, but I know things you don’t. It wasn’t due to my evidence (“hateful lies”) against you, it was that Dumbledore didn’t actually even trust you to put down the toilet seat lid leave alone put Potter and Lily’s lives in your hands. You claim I had no idea what I was fighting for. Harry obviously hasn’t told you a quarter of my story and I don’t feel like playing “fill in the blanks for your foe so he can attack you with misused knowledge.”

For all your talk of non-Death Eater Slytherins, you still have your dismally abysmal view of us, by insinuating that I may have suited Ravenclaw, in Lily's eyes. It is just as erroneous as you think. I was not wishing to be in Slytherin, I just knew it.

You cannot see past your eyebrows leave alone nose. Dumbledore. Didn’t. Trust. You. He hardly trusted anyone, but you seem to think you were privy to Dumbledore’s secrets. Ha! He has told me things from his portrait here in my office that make even my blood run cold. He told me some before you resurfaced, and he said, and I quote, “Considering Sirius’ worth and sullen sabotage, at times I wonder if I did the right thing in helping him escape, and try to look past my dislike of Dementors and let them have carried on with it.” However much Dumbledore said this to me in humour, I am keen enough to tell there was an element of truth behind the sparkling eyes and twitchy beard.

What made me, and others, believe you could be the spy?

Seven years of your indifference or join in attitude toward bullying. Knowing what a skilled liar you were when it came to weaselling your way out of tight corners with Filch and the professors. The fact that you claimed these Marauders were your friends, yet you hexed them when you thought it would be amusing, A street full of Muggles fooled by Pettigrew. Your attitude when you were carted off to Azkaban without a trial, nonstop maniacal laughter (I appreciate Barty Crouch here, even if he was incorrect) and above all my one hundred percent mistrust on anyone foolish enough to play tricks ...you know what I’m saying so I won’t repeat it to evoke a response. I should have known you were “innocent” as you used my own spell, Levicorpus against me in front of a crowd containing Lily Evans? Yes, so admirable. (if you can’t read sarcasm return to primary school.)

Potter, Harry Potter, did not seem to tell you one quarter of what we “discussed” in the Pensieve. This shows a sensitivity I would not have believed possible in such a wizard as him. Not that I am known for my tact and diplomacy. Until he does, if he ever does, learn this:

I loved Lily Evans from the time I was nine years old. We lived in the same city, attended the same primary school. She was the first witch I encountered outside home, and she showed every sign of liking me as well, no matter my appearance.

I don’t know why the others thought you betrayed “James” and Lily, unless it was the case with me, that they loved her too deeply to allow even the slightest amount of scepticism. I believed you sold them out, as you know. So sorry that I’m not sorry.

My turn for a question – what is your understanding of Lily’s feelings for a certain Slytherin? I don’t mean Slughorn and don’t toy with me. I want the blatant truth, facts, as to whether she thought of me and if she did, what did she share with you and your precious friends about it? I wish I could ask Lupin. He, at least, tried hard to be honest.

With deep mutual loathing,  
Dripping venom,

Severus Snape.


	10. Sirius: Letter #5

  
12 Grimmaulds Place, London  


 

 **You're a dirty rotten liar!**  


Sirius


	11. Sirius: Letter #6

12 Grimmauld Place, London

 

 

 

Severus Snape

Headmaster

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

  


I am truly regretful for sending the rude and stupid previous letter. I wrote those words in mindless anger and never really meant to send it. - Just in case you are interested in details; I swept the bloody inkwell from my desk and the owl-in-waiting started fluttering around my head. I chased it out of the room and the stupid bird took the letter with it. - My anger was not even really directed at you. I've been angry at myself. For wishing what you said was indeed true. You applied common sense to the matter and concluded that Dumbledore distrusted me for the same reason you probably have every right to hate and distrust me for. 

What makes you think that Dumbledore was ever bothered by what you call bullying? As long as Poppy could mop up the damage in an overnight stay at the hospital wing and it could be argued that the 'victims' had done something to deserve a bit of rough treatment, none of the teachers ever cared. You can't deny that the recipients of our hexes were not exactly helpless first year Hufflepuffs or studious Ravenclaws. We had no need to 'weasel' out of punishment; the detentions given when we were caught were a joke. After sending you down the tunnel, I got a couple of afternoons helping Hagrid. The others joined in and we were having a great time. Mind you, I got those detentions for nearly exposing Remus. Dumbledore agreed that it was your fault to have acted to my taunt. The only person who really cared about our behaviour was Lily. She thought we could do better.

You are not referring to yourself as a victim of bullying, are you? Don't sell yourself under value. The hostility between you and James and the rest of us by extension was of a more serious matter. You were fighting for a price worth it. James continued to hex you during our 7th year, but you didn't let go either. I was merely watching James' back should you use one of your darker tricks against him. You did a couple of times.

The real reason Dumbledore never trusted me was not because of what I did but because of who I am. Back then I thought I had done everything to proof myself a true Gryffindor. Hexing dark Slytherins by the number convinced most of my house mates and the fact that James obviously trusted me helped with the others. I don't know for sure, but I think it's an educated guess that the Hat told Dumbledore a secret I only shared with one other person Lily Evans. The hat sorted me into Gryffindor, because it decided that wanting to go there, showed immense bravery for someone like me. The Black Gryffindor; if it hadn't been for James....

I must have been mad to have asked that question in the first place, knowing the answer and still hoping for you to come up with something believable. My behaviour after the encounter with Peter should be understandable and I admit it presents a good reason to believe the impossible for anyone who didn't know me. Still, isn't it strange that nobody ever wanted to know why. Dumbledore sent Hagrid to collect Harry before I acted strangely, remember?

You've read the whole from which you 'borrowed' the last page? Do you understand the truth between the lines? Dumbledore kept me busy with Order tasks and away from James, Lily and Harry long before the danger was imminent. We didn't fully understand it at the time. We knew that Dumbledore suspected a spy close to the Potters, but I had never done anything to justify the suspicion. The idea that I could be persuaded to join the Death Eaters was ridiculous, even more so the idea that I could ever betray James. We wrongly suspected Remus to have fallen for the dark beast inside at last. Remus' suspecting me was perfectly reasonable in hindsight; he knew it wasn't him and Peter was out of the question. 

Is this enough bare truth to please you?

I hope so because I think you are indeed the only one I can trust with truth and I really want to tell the tale. I sincerely beg you to accept my apology and agree to keep up our correspondence. 

Phineas Nigellus is looking down my neck. He gave me a telling-off you certainly had enjoyed watching. He isn't actually bad company for a portrait under your command.

  


I haven't answered your question in this letter. I will if you insist. Do you really want it? 

  


Yours faithfully

Sirius Black

 


	12. Severus: Letter #6

Headmaster’s Office

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Sirius Black,

12 Grimmauld Place, London

 

I am not sure how to receive your letter. You are often candid, but usually in my face rather than civil. I will make every attempt to be civil to you in turn. I may slip, for through all of my control there is a helter-skelter runaway train of emotion, which I rein in with sarcasm and biting retorts. If my train derails, you may blame me rather than (almost) any blame on your part.

 

Yes, your previous letter showed your admirable self-restraint. Ahem, train run away already. Oh well, you are used to my venom, just don’t slip in it as I actually do not wish you to fall. Yes, I have reason to dislike and distrust you, but as you seem to be overcoming yourself, I am making an attempt to “get over myself” as well, at least in regard to you. You certainly had reason to hate me as well.

 

No, I was not a victim of bullying after about 3rd year. By then the enmity was so mutual that I ceased to be innocent. And I admit even on the first train trip, I mistrusted anything to do with Gryffindor and especially someone from a nearly exclusively Slytherin family wanting to take charge of the Hat’s decision. Harry had a similar time with the Hat, as I am sure you know. He told me in an attempt to compliment me which backfired in his (and my) face. And Lily never revealed your secret to me.

 

Lily cared but I never wanted her pity, it was degrading and made it look like I couldn’t take care of my own business. But I never wanted her ‘protection’ to end either. It was proof both that she disliked James, and was on my side. I was willing to put up with the pity, almost.

 

I ... drove her away, in hindsight, with my bitterness and my partiality towards the Dark Arts, and of being a would-be Death Eater, but she was my good angel, I needed her. So yes, I would like to know what you can tell me of Lily Evans-Potter. (I just had to sneak Evans in there, not all my bitterness has subsided, I am not one to change overnight.)

 

Your detentions were easy. Your marks came easy. Your popularity came easy. But life for someone such as you didn’t come easy when it came to home life. This is something I can understand. My father ... was a foul, nasty piece of work and my mother acquiesced to him with all bitter loathing. I managed to inherit traits from both of them. I am not saying my situation was worse than yours. I am explaining that I have every right to bemoan my intensely hated family life, the reason I never married and had children- I might be the same to my own offspring. That, and my life was too hectic. That and Lily had spurned me for that loathsome stag. (I know he was your friend but allow me to hate him in peace.)

 

Yes, you had every right to protect James. I was never jealous of you as I was toward him. Yes, I used a few, shall we say perhaps ten, Dark spells on him, on perhaps twice as many occasions. I know what you thought of me “greasy git”, “oddball”, “up to his neck in the Dark Arts.” I fit all and yet NONE of those descriptions. I wasn’t an oddball among Slytherins. I was not as into the Dark Arts as you seemed to think, I was just open to experimenting with anything.

 

Dumbledore wished to trust you. It is Pettigrew’s fault that he didn’t, and the fact that you were sent to Azkaban without a trial. Don’t sell yourself short either. I believe he may have trusted you – just not one hundred percent. Yes, he kept you away from the Potters as much as he could. I must tell you his regret was very genuine. There is no other reason than that which could have made H. Potter rescue you with the Hippogriff. I was so furious I felt as if I were splitting in two when you escaped. I wanted you to be the victim of the Dementor’s Kiss. Strange how things change.

 

Interesting note on Phineas Nigellus Black’s portrait. I have been using him to check on you, and it is good that you occupy yourself with “a portrait under your command,” in your words.

 

Your apology is halfway accepted, in case you can’t tell from this letter written in the closest thing to decency I can come when dealing with someone I loathed so well for so long. It seems a shame to give it up as if part of me dies with the nastiness. Don’t expect every letter to be this well-met.

 

As far as unanswered questions go, it may wound me, but I do wish to know more about Lily. I need to know, as my life has been devoted to her and then to her memory. As a wise person once said, love is the most powerful disillusionment charm.

 

So I insist.

 

Yours grudgingly.

Severus Snape


	13. Sirius: Letter #7

12 Grimmauld Place, London

 

 

Severus Snape

Headmaster

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

 

How to start? I guess it's best to tell you first how it came about that Lily and I became friends and close enough to talk about things we wouldn't talk about with James. You would not be the only one to assume that when she started going out with James, she simply put up with me for his sake. 17-year-old girls like her may fall in love with idiots, but that doesn't mean they are fond of their idiotic friends. The information I will be confiding to you comes mainly from a correspondence between Lily and me during summer 1981 until the Fidelius charm was cast. The letter you found is one of the few which were not burnt after reading. You can guess it; it was when Dumbledore sent them into hiding and thereby put James out of action. It went well for a while. James adored Lily, he cared for her until Harry was born. He was the happiest father imaginable, he tried to do everything himself from preparing Harry's bottles to changing the nappies, without magic. As the weeks went on he got restless, wanted out again. He wanted to be useful, do something, join us in the fight against the Death Eaters, the fight for Harry's future. Lily had foreseen that – that's why we started conspiring by secret letters. She let him go with my promising to bring him back every time, alive and whole – and a little bit happier. He used his invisibility cloak to meet with us. One winter night all went wrong. We went into a trap. The Death Eaters knew we were coming. We barely got away, again thanks to the cloak. Dumbledore was furious. He came to the cottage again a day later and told James and Lily that they were specifically targeted by Voldemort. He told them he had reliable information that there was a spy in the Order and proven by our adventure the night before it must be one of us. He demanded to see the cloak and 'borrowed' it.

 

All right, you're not interested in the Potters' marriage life. I simply thought it necessary to explain how I came to know certain things.

 

There's no need to explain to me where you and Lily grew up. We went there once. Lily wanted to introduce James to her parents and he dragged me along. Her sister Petunia couldn't help telling and showing us, where she thought all of 'our kind' came from. And where we should stay, away from decent people. Nice neighbourhood, Snape, my mother would have loved the gloomy atmosphere, without the Muggles that is.

 

You are right, there was a time when Lily liked you. She even admired you for a while. So up to the beginning of our 2nd year, all went according to your plan. You introduced her to magic, to the wonders of our world and the wonders of her own abilities. You were her guide, her protector, the devoted knight in the Lady's service. But when she had settled in, she didn't need your overwhelming guidance anymore. Overwhelming is the keyword. You still call her your angel. She never was one; more important she never wanted to be one. You scared her with your obsessive devotion and possessiveness. She started to doubt your motives. She couldn't believe that you had not known about the blood prejudice when you approached her for the first time. You knew so many details about the wizarding world, but you had no idea about its vices? You put her on a pedestal, high above everything she wanted to be part of, to keep her as your own, dependent. Don't shoot the messenger; I am merely repeating what she told me as an adult woman years later. The uneasy feeling was vague at first, growing slowly and she wasn't aware of the full implications until much later.

Remember what she said to James after the defence OWL? She thought he was as bad as you were. So why him not you? Isn't that what you really want to know? Why did she take the effort to reform him and gave up on you? Yes, she hated the Dark Arts and was disgusted by your meddling with them; she hated your Death Eater fledgeling mates. But I already told you she was not exactly fond of me either back then.

Had she really loved you right from the start like you claim you did love her, maybe things had been different. To your misfortune, the estrangement started long before she thought of blokes in those terms. She liked you as a friend and I'm afraid she soon started to pity you. Pity like that isn't a bad thing. Lily pitied Remus and by caring about him she got to know him better and they became friends. When she told him that 'someone' had seen Poppy take him to the willow, she was trying to protect him. She tried to make you let go, didn't she? You wouldn't listen. It wasn't even that he had done anything to you himself; you were after James and me. Your determination to expose Remus was just means to your end. What else could she do than protect the only innocent?

Why didn't she tell you? Because of your former friendship, because she used to really like you once because she didn't want to hurt you.

What you did by calling her mudblood was to give her a reason to officially end what was already over. People just don't like breaking up. Don't blame her. She was not the idol of goodness you wanted to see in her. She was a 16-year-old girl who couldn't stand it anymore. She wanted to be with people who were nice and kind and fun to be with. She took an easy way out. Perhaps she really believed until the end she still was your friend, kind of. I know what I'm talking about. We fooled ourselves to believe Peter was our friend. In fact, he was our Charity project. I'm not saying he was annoying to be with all the time, but more often than not. After James saved him from Rosier's hexes in 1rst year, he became our responsibility and we kept him around and dragged him along into disaster.

One more thing, I knew that you kept the snakes at bay. Reggie mentioned that _'you kept a pet Gryff mudblood'_ and threatened to curse everyone who'd dared touch her. Lily never noticed. She said she was sorry when I told her in those letters.

 

Sirius

 


	14. Severus: Letter #7

Headmaster (on temporary leave)

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Sirius Black

12 Grimmauld Place

London

If you’re still trying to play games, then your foulest is this voodoo you use with the piercing pins of your words...and more clever than I imagined. Jealousy?

To skip a whole lot of pain, bitterness, loathing and regret (which I know perfectly well I already have enough of), I will make a few observations and then bury your words so deeply within you won’t have to touch it, it can sit and fester with the worst of things...and this is among the worst.

I don’t give a damn about James. I regret to give a damn about his son, but Lily...I thought she still harboured feelings for me driven away only by my subsuming myself into the nefarious realm of Dark Magic and actually _using_ it in day-to-day activity. I didn’t really realise how much she drifted, from such an early time.

I used to shield her from other Slytherins, yes. Regulus used to tell me with disgust “Enjoy your Muggle Studies.” That was as kind as it got. I’m not particularly concerned with kindness, and I see that can mean an obsessive love. I was harassed by my own house nearly as much as I was harassed by you three (I don’t count Pettigrew as human, a subhuman nonentity, so there aren’t really four of you. Suicide was too good for him.) I was a pariah in my House until they realised my worth in adept skill in magic and procuring points for being a clever little Slytherin - but even then she was an issue. I am not glad she was sorry about it.

As for your discussion of him are you likening Lily’s relations with me to your dealings with Pettigrew? A Charity project kind of idea? That certainly makes me feel more like vomiting than when Bellatrix kissed my ears in playful seduction whenever she killed. So you can imagine, that sickens me indeed.

Yes it all fits together too well, but my love doesn’t rely on being reciprocated. Never has, never will. I listen to the truth only when it is valid. Unfortunately, though I know you bear a grudge against me, I am forced to see the truth of it...I commend your straightforwardness while laughing at it. Gryffs are so very subtle. Lily is an exception to most Gryffs: she fooled me that she cared.

I believe I am done. I am washing my hands and wiping the dust off the soles of my shoes. I am gone. Not suicide, dunderhead, solitude. For a time.

Excuse the brief letter.

Yours, with some suspicion,

Severus Snape


	15. Sirius: Letter #8

12 Grimmauld Place, London

Severus Snape

??? Spinner's End ???

 

I'll be trying to respect your wish for temporary solitude. It actually suits my schedule as well. I do have friends and a social life, you know.

This is just a short note to express my hope that we may continue our correspondence in due time and to clear up one or two misunderstandings.

I thought we know each other well enough that you can tell, when I'm playing games and when not.

You said sometime before that you'd rather asked Remus to tell you about Lily. I doubt not his report had been easier to swallow; bitter-sweet and exactly meeting your expectations. Remus was my friend; I'm not suggesting that he was dishonest, but he had the habit to dress the truth as nicely as possible and forget about anything that could hurt. He had told you that Lily had loved you, if you'd be more social, taken better care of your looks, been less ambitious and less interested in the Dark Arts and not sorted into Slytherin. In other words, she had loved you, if you'd been somebody else.

If you are a man who would rather go for this illusion than accept that she cared for you as a childhood friend, but not the way you wanted, pity is indeed the only thing you deserve. Are you?

By comparing Lily's hesitation to make a clear cut, when she noticed that your needs and hopes were different from what she was able and willing to give, to our failure to let go of Peter, I never meant to imply you were like him. We'd all been better off if Padfoot accidentally caught that rat during our hunts through the Forbidden Forest. The instinct to do so was sometimes very strong.

Breaking up with people you in whatever means once cared about is a hard thing and not doing it like we did only makes things worse.

Don't hide in your mother's kitchen too long, if this is where you are.

Sirius Black


	16. Severus: Letter #8

Severus Snape, Headmaster on _very_ temporary leave,

Former Potions Master’s Study, Hogwarts

 

Sirius Black

12 Grimmauld Place

 

Black,

I am not one weak enough to dwell forever on what you have told me about Lily. She has come down from her pedestal, leaving behind (yet more) regret and bitterness, but I am not one to idolise an empty pedestal. That is of course what I did before your sullen knowledge, but I believe you are right in thinking she did not have that much concern for me, more like who she wished I was, an expectation I could not live up to.

Pain can be present only when there is lack of purpose, drive and clarity.

I did the best I could for her at school, and in protecting her nosey son, the dead can ask no more of me. I could not be more social, made myself presentable, spurn ambition, turn my back on the Dark Arts and most definitely change being sorted into Slytherin. I was a moth to her flame and I see she has scorched my wings.

“In other words, she had loved you, if you'd been somebody else,” you said. I see you have managed to put the Cruciatus Curse into words, true words, but cruel words. Don’t worry, Black, you and I both know I wound others with my tongue as well, likely more often than you do. Is yours calculated to produce a certain reaction, or were they just words? It’s hard to tell with someone who showed every bit as much loathing for me as I had for you. Motives are not readable at this point.

Yes, I am back as Headmaster. I love solitude, but the abyss was staring back, and I have no time for existential nonsense. Back to being bored by Phineas Nigellus snarl about how you finally managed to take down the Black Family Tapestry. Black, you have no respect, do you? Your brother died trying to protect his family, and you sully it by slowly managing to take down that which had such meaning for the brave young lad. Just because you are a singe mark doesn’t deny his presence.

I could not hold in all my venom. Words designed to singe seem to come from both sides.

Yours tersely,

Severus Snape


	17. Sirius: Letter #9

12 Grimmauld Place, London

 

 

Severus Snape

??? Spinner's End ???

 

Severus,

I think it is appropriate to call by this name (once), after what you did the other night.

Thank you!

I think it was sheer dumb luck again that you took Phineas' portrait with you to wherever you retreated. The old chap is making himself more useful now than he was alive. I won't imagine how long I might have lain at the bottom of those stairs without you listening to his emergency call.

…...and who else might have found me. I trust you.... not to tell Harry. I think I can. Please tell me that for once I do not misjudge your character. I expect your mercy will come at a price. I'm ready to pay; I am not wiggling out of the mess I got myself in.

I'm trying to find comfort in the thought that despite being thrown out of bed at 3 o'clock in the morning by my great-great-grandfather's screams for help, you got some pleasure out of the situation. You can't expect me to remember much, but Phineas had been kind enough to clear the fog. He told me that some time after opening the second bottle of Ogden's I decided to talk to mum and fell down the stairs. He became worried about the blood and the odd angle of my right leg. So after a while, he decided to call on the one competent and trustworthy at hand. I admit I do agree with his choice. Had I not seen the state of my trousers and the bloody shards of glass you pulled out of my head and leg, I had hardly believed that I had more than a hangover. You really know your healing spells and potions. Speaking about hangover, another bottle of the stuff you left at my bedside would be great, if you don't mind.

 

Sirius

Stop reading here! Don't turn the page. The rest is of no real interest to you. It's just me again needing to tell someone if only a letter.

 

 

My mother's letter to Crouch lay neatly folded on my bedside table, when I awoke, so it's not unreasonable to assume you've read it.

It was a birthday present from Ronald Weasley. Who else could get such a stupid idea and carry it out in the best intention? The Ministry recently cleared their old archives. Voldemort dead, case closed. Among the things to be shrunken and put away was my file. Ron thought it might cheer me up to read in detail about the hapless, wild chase Shacklebolt sent his clueless men on. Savage, Williamson and Dawlish searched the Battersea Dogs Home and Williamson's wand was snatched by a playful cairn terrier. Very amusing indeed. The letter was attached to the end of the file; Ron probably didn't notice it at all.

You surely will call it poetic justice that the one person I thought I hated more than almost anybody else, was the only one who did not only believe in my innocence, but really tried to do something about it. She raged and ranted …................ pleaded with Crouch. Walpurga Black pleading! Begging Crouch to further investigate. I couldn't believe my eyes, but it was her hand that wrote those words, unmistakeably. When she said that she already had lost one son to this _'unnecessary waste of precious magic blood'_ I recognized her unrepentant Slytherin mind. The phrase is all too familiar. She made me apologize for _' having forced her to waste precious magic blood',_ after she used the cane. I don't tell you to raise pity. We both know that wounds like that heal. I thought the fun to play football with the boys on the street or learning how to ride a bike was worth it. She didn't catch me very often anyway, not after I started Hogwarts..

I take it that she believed we had caused  _R_ egulus' death. Is it true that you, I mean that the Death Eaters believed Reggie was killed by the Order? Yet she tried to save me from the dementors. Maybe she just wanted to punish me herself? Maybe she thought that gratitude would make me change? No, I don't think so. She tried to convince Crouch that I would never have joined Voldemort and that I could never ever be persuaded to betray James. She even tried to explain my behaviour at my arrest. She knew me. She understood. 

Idon't think the words _' rebellious rascal', 'unruly brat'_ and ' _disgrace to wizardkind'_ have ever been written with so much ----------- love??? 

What a difference to the other testimony given to the Wizengamot.

When I look at her silent portrait now, I wonder how she spent her few remaining years; how she felt, when I brought the people she held responsible for Reggie's death to her house.

I have not mentioned it before, Ginny and Molly managed to silence the portrait for good. Harry hinted that is was an unpleasant scene. She will not answer my questions; she doesn't show a sign of recognition. She only stares unfocused down into the hall. I wish I could tell her that no matter what stood between us and still stands, I understand she had a heart.

It's not that I regret hating her; I still do. I don't regret running away and cutting all ties with her. It's just that had I known, I had done those thing for better reasons.

Couldn't resist to read on? I hope it had some entertainment value. The tapestry will be back on its place. I asked Andromeda to mend it. One cannot erase one's family, neither by burning nor by denying.

And for Merlin's sake, Severus, stop defending yourself when you're not attacked! That has already made you the most promising target at school. Just in case you haven't noticed the Marauders are dead and it might be time to bury them.

Sirius


	18. Severus: Letter #9

Headmaster’s Office, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

 

Sirius Black

12 Grimmauld Place (Grim old place indeed)

 

Yes, I took two portraits with me so that Flitwick couldn’t do much damage to his sensibilities. Albus Dumbledore, the inventor not of Gryffindor cruelty but of Gryffindor cunning. I stayed at Spinner’s end but two days and then spent a short time in a cottage in Hogsmeade.

I covered Dumbledore’s portrait with a black cloth and put Phineas Nigellus in pride of place, and it was your sheer luck that Phineas heard and I was awake and willing to go there – with more willingness than I used to search the Forest for you and Potter and company when Umbridge was Headmistress (I’d nearly prefer Bellatrix...)

You are further lucky I carry my essential Potions ingredients on me at all times. You were inebriated and vomiting with pain or intoxication or both – a most rewarding trip for me I assure you.

However I have a note of empathy – I would fall down the stairs if I had to speak to Walburga Black too, especially if it was of a sensitive nature, which it was to judge by the letters. Do not doubt Slytherin love, Black. The Dark Lord was an atypical Slytherin. He felt no bond to anyone but himself. A true sociopath, I believe.

I can believe that she cared for you. She was a bit obsessed, had a mania when it came to being pureblood, but so much is nonsense in that line of thinking. Not entirely, however. No one deserves to be called “shame of my flesh” and an idiot who promoted “a waste of precious magical blood” through your dissent. You saw her love for Regulus yet now finally you see past the rough exterior to the rough nature that still cares beyond all reason. For your mother to plead with Crouch Sr. took bravery of a sort different than a Gryffindor.

As your great-great-grandfather says, “We Slytherins are brave, yes, but not stupid.”

You had three serious fractures and if Ditanny had not be applied outside and healing charms, you may have suffered encephalitis as it became infected or died. You could have become seriously injured permanently had I not mended them with the simple charms I taught Poppy and which should be on the syllabus at Hogwarts. If there were there no potion to resolve the pain you would have complained and tried to snipe me. Morphium Draught quite effective.

I let my attention wander and find it on the person of Phineas, and think. What can I do to make Sirius Black suffer for inconveniencing me? To show up in my grey nightshirt and have him laugh beneath his pain that I must have been wearing my nightshirt since Sixth Year?

I wonder what I could do?

Nothing, just keep you indebted, perhaps. But the knowledge that you owe your mother a debt for trying her best to save you from the Dementors makes me smirk. I almost laugh and hold it in.

She told me that she believed it possible that the Order killed Regulus, but thought also from Kreacher’s self-punishing disobedience when questioned during the question and answer game that Regulus had tried to kill who they now feared, namely the Dark Lord. They knew more about the truth of it than you think. Ask Kreacher if Potter can spare him for five minutes. I know his first loyalty should be to you, the last of the Blacks, but he seems to have formed an attachment for Godric’s Hollow.

Hate your mother, I hate my father. We’re even in that instance. I am glad you have finally learned to endure the name of Black and its history, if not the pure-blood part. I would like one favour of you. Return the tree of the House of Black.

If you could return Andromeda to the tapestry, that would make us quits. I always held a lot of affection for her. If you manage to restore the tapestry and all who were blasted off, Sirius Black, then you hold no life debt to me. Slytherin pride demands no less – even if we are still separated by many things, a grudging love of our families is one thing we share.

As far as defending myself, it is so deeply ingrained that I would appreciate you learning to live with. One has to be constantly wary, especially I with a vile home, a sack of idiots at school, dealing with the public at St Mungo’s, being a Death Eater, Order Member, disliked Potions Master and dreaded Headmaster.

You had me smiling in that last rant.

Yours (somewhat,)

Severus Snape

 


	19. Sirius: Letter #10

 

12 Grimmauld Place, London

 

 

Severus Snape

Headmaster

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

 

All right Snape, I got it. You saved my sorry hide and I should thank you on bended knees. Fine with me. Phineas had already told me all I needed to know about that night; you thought it necessary to elaborate with further details. Fine again – well, not exactly what I needed on my still upset stomach, but you earned the right to do that.

Forget about Dumbledore's children's story about life debts. It's just that; a story to teach children to show gratitude and expect it. You know as well as I do what Harry got out of Peter's life debt. Nothing! It didn't stop the rat to resurrect his master nor did it cause more than a second of hesitation down in the cellar of Malfoy Manor. What saved the kids was Voldemort's distrust, his hidden safety measures which killed the rat.

When I say I owe you … it is a matter of honour, not some weird magic bond I'm forced to fulfil. You have nothing to do with my family and I will not return the tapestry to its place to please you. I already decided to do that anyway. Andromeda received the tapestry and had a look at it. She thinks she can fully restore the people burned out by my mother's rage. The alterations done by previous generations to remove the squibs are irretrievable.

Live with the fact that I consider myself in your debt and if you can't come up with something appropriate, I will find my own way to honour it.

 

I guess I have to bear it that whenever I try to be decent and fair, you twist and turn my words until they become the insults you are so adamant to read. Maybe I'm a bit out of practice in being kind, no practice at all in being kind to you, but believe it or not I have been trying. You always valued an intellectual challenge. Why don't you give it a try and use your Slytherin cunning to read my words the way I meant them? Can't you just give me a chance?

 

Is our little game still on? It's my turn if I remember correctly. Then I have a question concerning Dumbledore. After you stopped teaching Harry occlumency, Remus called him in to keep me from confronting you. He did. Why didn't he order you to take up the lessons again? He promised he would. Don't tell me you refused. Nobody refused to follow Dumbledore's order. I know that all to well.

 

Sirius

 

 

 


	20. Severus: Letter #10

Headmaster’s Office

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

 

 

Sirius Black,

12 Grimmauld Place

 

  
I would rather vomit than have you pay back a debt. I don’t wish to be in anyone’s debt, and even less do I want someone pandering to me. Forget it, as you said to my vile amusement, a children’s story, some kind of fable to make people respect each other. You proved the point with Pettigrew. If there is one way I would like to be repaid it would be to have you teach Defence Against the Dark Arts. Being Headmaster, I cannot teach it myself. You are well qualified, and the Dark Lord’s jinx on the job ceased to work once he died. I smirk at having taught Potter _Expelliarmus_ though I did not see the use he would put it to at the time.

 

I am glad the tapestry will be mostly restored, your own wishes notwithstanding. And if you fail to take the first paragraph as a sign of some respect and friendship then you actually are a dunderhead. I am trying not to twist your words but I rarely take anything at face value. I am giving you a chance to end the animosity.

 

Our game – my Occlumency game – I did not refuse. I became tired of mediocre attempts on Potter’s part and his oh so very fortunate delving into my memories as he used the Pensieve, which I used to store certain thoughts. Even the Headmaster knew the whole thing was a fiasco, and agreed that it was impossible for Potter to continue as our dislike for each other was far too virulent than to have Potter trust me. Dumbledore should have trusted his judgement over the Dark Lord’s and taught Potter himself.

 

I know the anger that came at me from every side but as long as Potter was dense enough not to empty his mind, he would dream of the Dept. of Mysteries (which you know a bit about...understatement.) The Headmaster let me off the hook for the first time I knew him. He knew Potter would make my connection with Lily, and that it was not allowed. It was one promise he made to me that he kept. I asked for his word, and he kept it.

 

I offer you the job as a means to an end. I need a DADA professor, and you need something other than Grimmauld Place to exert your intelligence. (this was not sarcastic, who would have guessed?)

 

In anticipation,

Severus Snape

(my apologies for the terse letter I have NEWT practice papers to write)

 

 


	21. Sirius: Letter #11

12 Grimmauld Place, London

Severus Snape

Headmaster

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

 

Snape, 

if this is your idea of a joke, it’s a cruel one indeed. For, yeah, I want the Defence job and I’m probably the most qualified man you can get for the pay. You guess correctly I do need to do something useful to keep my mind occupied and evening classes in interior decoration won't work. I've already tried that.

I can even prove that I am not such a reckless idiot you seem to think I am. I have one or two questions concerning your offer.

First, what happened to your current Defence teacher? Dumbledore managed to keep them for a year with the curse in place. Three months into 1st term should be an all time record for needing a replacement. Please accept that I will not be available before start of 2nd term in January. I've got one or two private things to settle before committing myself full-time. I might ask for your assistance with one of them, but don't worry it's something you won't object to.

Second, I'd like to see the ' _Terms of_ ~~ _Servitude_~~ _Employment'_ in advance. Even a Gryffindor can learn from experience; I rather know what I'm getting myself into, instead of going blindly wherever the Headmaster sends me. 

For your information you're not the first one to offer me a job. Harry had been kind enough to ask me to work for the Aurors Office. I told him I need my freedom and he accepted that I'm not good at following orders. I'd appreciate if you stick to this explanation. In fact, I will not, cannot, could not ever be persuaded to work for the Ministry as long as Azkaban had not been closed down and sent to the bottom of the sea. They think with fair trials and the Dementors gone, Azkaban is the best place to keep society safe from criminal wizards. They don't understand that the dementors were not the only dark inhabitants. They think the dementors are as bad as it can get. I remember there were prisoners pleading with them to take their soul and make it end once and for all. I'm not talking about the ghosts of those who died fast enough to cheat the dementors of their souls. The best explanation I can come up with is a comparison to Peeves. He consists of the rebellious spirit of teenage mischief imprinted in the very stones of the castle. You've seen enough of darkness to get a faint idea what kind of poltergeist is bred from centuries of nightmares, despair and torture, nurtured by soul-sucking Dementors. No cleaning spell, no army of Patronuses can get rid of that many-headed monster. It is eternal. I've tried to explain it to Kingsley and Harry, but they can't understand. You know what they think, “after all he's been through he's a bit unstable, off the rockers”. I am not mad, if I'd been I had given in to death years ago. I guess I could have tried a bit harder, but honestly, they're better off to believe that now after Voldemort is dead they only need a few reforms, a bit of cleaning and all is well. I've seen the shock, the worry and the pain in Harry's eyes when I tried to speak my mind. I do care about him and I won't do anything to cause him pain if I can help it. He has already seen more than a  ~~ boy ~~ young man of his age should see; he doesn't need a taste of my darkness.  _ I may be a bastard, but I'm not a f... bastard.* _

This should answer the question I bet you've burned with curiosity to have answered since you received my first letter. Why has he chosen me to talk to? The answer is simple. You can't be shocked, disappointed or made to think worse of me than you already do. You have your own share of darkness, so you won't be damaged by mine. Or maybe I just don't care enough for your peace of mind.

 

Sirius Black

your new DADA teacher  (unless you're starting to have second thoughts)

 


	22. Severus: Letter #11

Headmaster’s Office,

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

 

 

 

Sirius Black,

Newly instated DADA teacher, yet to be formalised,

12 Grimmauld Place, London.

 

I believe we understand it quite well enough, the canker on the soul that darkness leaves, like a malignant growth on the soul. I do not require a hundredweight of confessions of your innermost feelings. It is pointless. I am not one to encourage it, though I may have told you more my past few owls than I have confided to anyone. I will not betray your blather to Potter, nor will you tell him mine. You have been discreet so far; any indiscretion and the job offer becomes null and void.

 

You will accept what happened with my current Defence Professor....or who was Defence Professor. The job is free of jinxes, but not free of me. He could not stomach my attitude toward the subject. He also made enemies of Sybill Trelawney, who ‘accidentally’ dropped a crystal ball on his head. As of now, you understand, the job waits like a beast posing its ragged teeth. You don’t run from the offer you cannot resist. Take the Gryffindor plunge. You have nothing to fear but ... failure.

Attached is your Terms of Employment. A brief overview:

-1- You receive wages every two weeks on a Friday, being paid for now as interim Defence Against The Dark Arts Professor, 75 Galleons a week.

-2- You agree upon a syllabus that concurs with the Headmaster’s wishes (I will go easy on you for your first few terms, especially as you will object vehemently with this)

-3- I certainly, and I quote: “can't be shocked, disappointed or made to think worse of [you] than [I] already do.” That does not mean I will permit substandard teaching and be warned I can bring more than sarcasm to task if you’re unprofessional in any way. I give this warning to all new Professors, including Professor Diggory, who ran amok with Sybill’s student and wasn’t even shy about it (hence the serious head injury.) No wonder I sacked him, you now think. Indeed.

There are more details attached, as you can obviously tell.

You are to be leashed, hound, but I will not insist that you bark upon demand. I know that you don’t care for my peace of mind. If you did, I’d know something was seriously wrong with me. 

My question of you: Will you cease to ask and answer these infernal questions? I find my interest waning, in light of the more easily analysed teaching methods and skills.

 

Not looking forward to your next question,

Severus Snape


	23. Sirius: Letter #12

 

12 Grimmauld Place, London

Severus Snape

Headmaster

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

 

I won't bore you anymore with my infernal questions or answers. You know all you need to know.

On your terms, I expected no less than you setting a syllabus to your liking as long as you accept my limits. 

I will not demonstrate any real Dark Arts to students of any age! There are sufficient ways to prepare them without them being confronted with the real thing. 

You will not interfere with how I handle the subject of werewolf infected humans! It's my fields of expertise. You cannot deny that I came closer to a fully transformed specimen and spent more time with it than you ever wished to. That much I owe to Remus.

I won't cut your precious little Slytherins some slack.

In any other way I'm really curious to learn from your experience as a teacher.

Give my wages to the students' fund. I can't be bothered to collect that pittance.

I don't think I'll trouble Sybill Trelawney if you make her understand that not every large black dog is the Grim.

Don't worry about my end of the leash; Padfoot is house-trained and generally cat-safe. It's usually  _ the other end of the leash _ 1 that causes the problems.

Awaiting your detailed orders

Sirius Black

 

P.S.: Just out of interest, not as part of our game. Are your Legilimency skills on par with your famed Occlumency? Can you perform it undetectable? Can you swim?

1 _**The Other End of the Leash –** _ book on dog behaviour and training by Patricia McConnel Ph.D.


	24. Severus: Letter #12

Headmaster’s Office

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

 

Sirius Black,

DADA Master (I bet you love that sound)

Stubbornly at 12 Grimmauld Place, London

 

I am in the midst of what Dumbledore termed my “pre-Christmas Scrooge burnout” which was very like him in its oddity and truth yet unlike him in sarcasm (which he scarcely ever exercised.) As to the burnout: I am going ~~home~~ to Spinner’s End for the last few days of term. I remember well how you decorated Grimmauld Place overnight with help from Molly. And so I wonder, would a stray cat and its ~~staff~~ owner be allowed to torture you at some point?

Alexi and I are both strays and both need to be surrounded by something to do with a kind of home, something Slytherin, and something to do with Regulus in particular. I admit to missing him for many years now. As you doubtless know, my year was a student short and his year was a student extra so he slept in the second year beds and so on starting his first year. He certainly knew how to snore.

So I am basically storming into your presence in the snow. We can meet face to face after all of these little treaties that our letters constitute.

As to your remark about payment being a pittance. Teachers really are paid a pittance. They either have to barter and trade small nonsense like Slughorn, take excessive care with what they have (McGonagall), have someone on the outside bring them money, or else have investments in legal and/or illegal operations.

Your dear Lupin was paid an utter pittance as a teacher with no seniority, hence his ragged robes. I realise he did not wish to look a mess any more than I need to be “confronted with a bottle of shampoo.”( Idiot Weasley broadcast.) Remus was a kind man and a popular teacher, but even Mr Perfect was not adequate to bring the class up to scratch.

You must give the students some indication of the Dark Arts, what they are facing, for they are not all as cunning as Harry proved to be. They must know the actuality- I do not ask you to Cruciate anyone or anything or put the Imperius Curse on students as Barty Jr. did, but you are to be explicit in your explanations. I’m not asking you to teach them Dark Arts, but reality.

Remus was your friend. Friendship I understand even if I don’t always participate. You may treat the Werewolf and contamination however you please, as long as you stress safety first.

I expect you to be vile to Slytherins. We are well used to it, I assure you.

I won’t tug on the leash for no reason, so I hope to be fair and have a grip on a spirited hound, as long as the Gryffindor canine doesn’t run afoul of Alexi.

Scrooge-burnout means a detailed list will be sent by owl no later than Boxing Day.

Sybill Trelawney tried to knock me flat on the day I ‘returned from the dead,’ – she thought I had murdered Dumbledore and how many others? – and she struck me over the head with the hot kettle from her incense-spewing fire. I told her this morning the Grim is coming to stay for a while, perhaps longer than I.

The unmentioned part: should I wish to step down and teach DADA again, I need to find a suitable Head. I expect you to help me in that search. Am I being blatant enough? Down the road perhaps.

Your curious questions:

-1- My Legilimency is only detectable to a true Occlumens. I have met four. None of them are at liberty and mostly already dead. There is one other is one whose capabilities changed during the second war, but Harry has yet to detect me. Bellatrix, the Dark Lord, and Thorfinn Rowle are dead. Draco alone is free ... I haven’t seen him in a while. I hope he enjoys using it on his father.

-2- I can swim, you dolt. I come from a rough neighbourhood. Anyone who couldn’t swim was quite literally made to “go jump in the river.”

..why the sudden interest? I sense a Slytherin-like tricky slyness on your part. That’s the first compliment I’ve paid you. Backhanded, of course, what do you expect? Chocolate hearts?

Severus Snape

 

 


	25. Sirius: Letter #13

12 Grimmauld Place, London

Severus Snape

Headmaster

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

 

You are welcome to my grim old place anytime. I thought I've made that clear. This also applies to your feline friend. One of Padfoot's best mates is a cat. You do remember Crookshanks, the one who gave me the passwords to Gryffindor Tower during Harry's 3rd year?

I could do with a bit of help decorating the place because Molly is unavailable. She will be, along with the rest of the Weasley family, the guest of honour at the Christmas party I'm planning in return for the great party they arranged for my birthday. If you think you spot a tiny bit of sarcasm, I can assure you it is purely intentional.

I miss Regulus, too. I want to make this Christmas as much alike the ones Regulus loved. I've spoiled the last one we spent together.

I can hardly guess how familiar you are with the family gatherings and holiday feasts which old and large wizard houses used to give in the past. Grimmauld Place was once the first address for such events. I think Lucius Malfoy took over, after my parents lost interest, so you might have attended a few? Don't judge Kreacher's cooking skills from what he served at Order meetings. The meals he prepared in the old times could rival Hogwarts feasts. Christmas Eve was the grand occasion, everyone in dress robes. Bellatrix as the eldest took care of the other kids which naturally tried to stay as close to Andromeda as possible – except in '67 when I set fire to Bella's robes. One can't help a spontaneous outbreak of accidental magic with so many kids around, can one?

The days before were the real treat. Kreacher let us help to decorate the house and on the last morning, he made biscuits, only for the two of us. Very special biscuits. A distant cousin from Germany had sent a whole set of animal-shaped biscuit cutters when I was three. There was a deer, a duck, a sheep, a hare and a large greyhound, a hippogriff and a winged horse, an impressive Father Christmas and a sledge with 12 reindeer. Kreacher knew a spell to make them come alive and dance around the table. Every now and then one left the dancing circle and placed itself on the rolled out dough (which smelled of butter, honey and almonds), cut a biscuit and walked to the buttered baking tray to place it there.

In 1970 it had rained for more than a week. We hadn't been able to get out for a bit of fresh air; I was bored. When Kreacher turned his back to take one tray out of the oven and put the next one in. I got an idea. I wanted them to go faster and they did. I wanted them to leave the circle. I told the hound to chase the hare. The hare ran for its life. The hound followed. Criss-cross over the table, toppling bowls of nonpareils, chocolate sprinkles; hazelnuts rolled everywhere. The duck took a desperate leap into a saucepan filled with hot melted chocolate, a good deal of the chocolate hit Kreacher who tried to finish the spell. He dropped the hot tray. The hare tried to hide between the legs of the reindeer which got nervous and when the hound jumped their backs in pursuit of the hare, they bolted. The sledge dangling behind them, they ran over Father Christmas. His outer rim got squashed. Deer and sheep jumped to the floor. The winged horse and the hippogriff took to the air. They landed on the upper shelf right in the middle of the Christmas pudding. The bowl went down, hit a cauldron with boiling blackcurrant syrup and knocked it off the stove. It landed on the deer and the sheep and flattened them. The bubbling syrup covered the kitchen floor. Regulus pulled up his feet and his screams turned into sobs. I was standing on my chair laughing, more hysterically than for joy. My mother's ' _Finite Incantatem'_ put an end to it. She levitated me and Regulus to the hall, while Kreacher was banging his head with the baking tray to punish himself. I was sent to my room to stay. Regulus was still sobbing uncontrollably when I climbed the stairs.

Regulus had persuaded Kreacher to tell us how to open the service lift between our rooms the year before. After the party, he managed to bring me a bit of the freshly-made Christmas pudding, a glass of milk and a biscuit hippogriff. I have no idea how he saved that one. You're are right, he snored, but not too badly.

The hippogriff was the last of Kreacher's special biscuits I've seen. I did not spend another Christmas at Grimmauld Place until I ran away, preferred to stay at Hogwarts or join James. Most of the cutters were damaged beyond repair. The hound, the hippogriff, the horse and the duck should be fine. I think Kreacher had hidden them. I hope he did. There is a poster announcing a ' _Altdeutscher Weihnachtsmarkt'_ down the street. Do you think we could get some more of those biscuit cutters there? Perhaps we could ask Kreacher to bewitch them to dance for us one more time. If Harry trusts me with Kreacher, that is. He seems very reluctant to do so. I'll give it a try, but as you stated correctly, I am the last of the Blacks and Kreacher's master.

I'm sure little Teddy and Vicky will love the honey biscuits.

Back to real business; I'm not completely wrapped up in the sentimental mood of the season. The party. Invitations will be owled in a couple of days. You are on the guest list and I hope you stay for dinner this time. Don't worry you won't be the only Slytherin. Andromeda will arrive with little Teddy in the afternoon to return the mended tapestry.

There is one additional invitation, I'd rather not sent by owl. Bella was a maniac and a sadist, but Andromeda and Narcissa got on very well until Andromeda got married to Ted Tonks. She doesn't say it, but I know she would like to get on speaking terms with her sister again. Despite what I called you once, you are Draco's godfather. This means you were more than Lucius' lapdog. Do you think Narcissa could be persuaded to accept the invitation? She can bring Draco as her guardian if she wants to. Not Lucius, I'm afraid; that would be pushing my limits and those of the other guests too far. From what I heard Lucius isn't up to social gatherings anyway; he didn't take his stint in Azkaban to well and the few days in the Aurors' care after the battle didn't do him any good either. Could you deliver the invitation to her personally or add a letter to it explaining that it is not a cruel joke and they will be welcome as part of the family. I guarantee for their safety and for the behaviour of some of the other guests if they have doubts. I do owe Andromeda this favour, it really means something to her. I've told Hermione and Harry about it. They agreed and will prepare the rest of the Weasleys.

Thank you for the compliment, but Gryffindors are not completely untalented to make plans. So, yes, I asked those questions for a reason. I'd called it a prank in good old Marauder tradition if I didn't fear you took that as an insult. It is not meant as one. It is for a good cause, one I dare say you won't object to. I'll tell you plain and simple.

Regulus' body still lies unburied at the bottom of the lake in the cave. I want to bring him home and get him a proper funeral. The Inferi curse ended with Voldemort's death. I listened carefully to Harry's tale about his last trip with Dumbledore. We both are capable wizards and should find the place for the blood sacrifice and get in without any problems. We don't need the boat because we don't need to get to the island. Summoning Regulus' remains should be possible from the outer shore of the lake. He should still be wearing the Black signet ring. It is goblin-made; it won't slip off. Nothing except the rightful heir can remove it from his finger. If  _'Accio Regulus Arcturus Black'_ is not precise enough with the mass of bones in the lake, the ring alone is unique and with one part of him (arm, hand or finger) we get the rest.

The main obstacle is Harry's stubbornness or his exaggerated care for my safety. Sometimes I wonder who he thinks is the godfather and who is the godson. He refuses to tell me the location of the cave and he's the only one who knows it. You see, where I desperately depend on your talents. The rough idea is that I pretend to persuade him again to tell me during the party and he will think of the cave and it's location while refusing to tell.

Once we've returned safely and Harry gets to know what we have done, he might be a bit pissed off with us, but remember  _'no harm done, no need to get upset'._ He's a Gryffindor.

The plan is open to any Slytherin improvement you want to add.

Looking forward to your answer and hoping to see you soon

Sirius


	26. Severus: Letter #13

Headmaster’s Office 

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy 

 

Sirius Black 

12 Grimmauld Place, London. 

 

Suddenly I actually care whether you are alive or dead and well or unwell instead of what your best use is. You’re really Regulus’s brother. I apologise for counting you a coward earlier. Perhaps you have a real point after all, other than suffering. Regulus would be touched, as am I. 

That sounds like Luna Lovegood’s Blibbering Humdinger. The blonde Ravenclaw with the bizarre wit who rushed to your aid in the Department of Mysteries, to answer your question. That said, here comes a letter about the two main topics raised. The recovery of Regulus’ body, and Christmas. Let’s get the frivolity over with, shall we? 

I am looking forward to the cookies. I am not generally a cookie type, but the Germans make some interesting things to eat that wriggle and hop: they invented wiggly cookies and also (which I have tried at least fifty times, who knows why) Levitating Sherbet Balls. Let’s not forget Marzipan anytime soon, as a child my mother Eileen would always buy Marzipan for me shaped into bells which she hung on the tree and bewitched to ring. 

I look forwards to your animated mouth-stoppers if I can provide. The “Old German Christmas Market” down the street from you sounds like the best place to get ingredients to repeat the best of both our experiences. Honey biscuits sound like the very thing on the tree if I am not mistaken. 

Your description of your childhood Christmas is otherwise a complete opposite to mine, being an only child in a small row house. If you dare pity me, I will extract your gizzards and make a misbehaving student pickle them as a punishment. I imagine Bellatrix just _loved_ looking after you. Magic among so many children sounds nearly as dangerous as being Headmaster to a load of poorly mannered children who still find me terrifying and want to rebel against me. Some of their antics sound like your family reunion put in one room. 

I will explain...I have explained, which explains why I am late with my return owl...the situation to Narcissa. You may find this interesting. I explained to her that I am in friendly terms with you, or at least much-improved terms, and she could not see how that was possible. 

I explained that we sent owls, brusque and at times vindictive, to each other. That things changed subtly, and with some alarm, I found I could relate to some of the things you’ve been through. How she could relate with what sisterly feelings Andromeda has for her, how she is bereft of any hope or comfort since the war except for little Teddy, who wants to meet his Auntie. I had Narcissa thinking about it, which I admit I considered impossible. Blood is indeed thicker than water, and she consented to come, as long as she could bring Draco. You expected no less. She said she is running contrary to Lucius, and therefore will only be able to stay for a few hours before flooing back to Wiltshire. 

Task One: Accomplished. 

Task Two: Regulus 

I will be able to extract the memory from ~~Potter~~ Harry. That is not a problem as I have learnt how to be ever more subtle in my deductions from thought and image. Harry won’t be easily fooled. Perhaps if we give him a touch of the Draught of Peace he will be more easily persuaded. 

The signet ring can be made to ring, as rings do when they are empty and spun on a smooth surface. The same harmonics apply in magic. It will be easy from there to know where to use _Levicorpus_ and once he is hovering, use _Mobilcorpus_. However, it may be as easy as a Summoning Charm. Knowing the Dark Lord, we shall have to take a smoother approach. 

_No harm done, no need to get upset_ should be _As long as we don’t get caught, it’s worth it_ for Slytherins. 

 

Yours in action for Regulus, 

  
See you soon, 

Severus Snape 


	27. Sirius: Letter #14

 

 

12 Grimmauld Place, London

 

Severus Snape

Headmaster's Office

Hogwarts

 

I still want to add a few personal words to the invitation you'll find enclosed to this letter. I borrowed a ' _Special Delivery'_ owl from Harry to deliver the other one directly to Narcissa. Lucius won't get a chance to intercept it.

Harry has agreed to let Kreacher help with the preparations after I promised anything short of an Unbreakable Vow not to harm to the elf. The fact that you will be around was extremely helpful.

When has he started to trust you more than me? Never mind, I think Hermione is under the weird impression that I'm after revenge for the dirty little tricks he played on me 4 years ago.

If I'm not completely mistaken Harry may drop in on you soon to offer good advice on how to deal with his slightly disturbed godfather. They are irritated about your unexpected job offer and more so about my acceptance of it, probably wondering which one of us is trying to kill the other first. He means well, so I hope you handle the embarrassing situation with adequate Slytherin cunning.

Looking forward to see you

Sirius

 

P.S.: What the heck does **“** pre-Christmas **Scrooge** burnout **”** mean? Newly invented magical malady or a Muggle expression? Does Alexi get on with other cats? Hermione will bring Crookshanks.

 


	28. Severus: Letter #14

[](http://s673.photobucket.com/albums/vv96/ValkyrieKat/?action=view&current=ChristmasECardSirius-Sev.jpg)

Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts

Sirius Black,

The odd DADA Master-to-be,

12 Grimmauld Place, London

 

I look forward to both interrogating and being interrogated by Harry Potter at the same time. They may indeed think I am after you, and it will need delicate care and perhaps, if you agree, allowing Harry to read our first ten letters of correspondence. Embarrassment doesn't matter as long as the job gets done to effect.

Revenge for a trick, how Gryffindor. Which one do you speak of?

I RSVP and will arrive via floo on the 23rd as stated in your letter.

Excuse the kittens in the card but this is how I imagine Alexi (who is a black Burmese cross) and Crookshanks (who deserves his name but I like the cat.) getting along famously as the kittens in the Christmas Card. I didn't bother with glitz. I'm sure you get the point. Dogs and especially hounds are more than welcome to the best scraps and a few extra dog biscuits.

“Pre-Christmas Scrooge Burnout,” is Dumbledore stealing from Charles Dickens, “A Christmas Tale”, a Muggle author. Scrooge is notorious for being grumpy and taciturn, (not to mention cheap and exploitative) and Scrooge coined the term to dismiss festive cheer, “Bah, humbug.”

Many humbugs and see you there.

Severus


	29. Sirius: Letter #15

12 Grimmauld Place, London

  
Severus Snape  
Headmaster's Office  
Hogwarts

I've counted on you to arrive sometime before the party. Can't you make it Friday 22th or early morning of the 23rd at latest and stay for the honey biscuits on Sunday morning?  
I've already mentioned that Harry is not exactly happy to leave me alone with Kreacher and though he is capable of working miracles in the kitchen, I'd rather have him around a day before - without a Weasley babysitter. There won't be a real Black Christmas without Kreacher's willing cooperation. Forcing him into obedience is only the last option; I'd prefer to convince him of my honest intentions. If reason won't work, there is something which surely will win him over, but I'm not really enthusiastic about using this trick in anyone's presence. Rest assured I'll hex you to smithereens if you laugh. I'll do it! Let's hope it won't be necessary.

Letting Harry read the first part of our correspondence? Up to the Letter-Which-Should-Not-Have-Been-Sent, they are safe, I guess. I remember quite a lot of blabbing on my part which should put Harry at ease.

Charles Dickens, 'A Christmas Tale' it is? Muggle literature has never been well represented in the Grimmauld Place library, I'm afraid. I'm not completely illiterate though. Lily was pretty fond of a female author called Jane Austen. James wanted to impress her, so we had to read them all. Not my cup of tea. I prefer wizards' poetry, Shakespeare, Keats, Shelley and Tennyson's 'Idylls of the King'. We used to recite his 'The Charge of the Light Brigade' at night in the common room. Lily was a bit baffled, she thought they were Muggles.

Yours  
Sirius

P.S.: I got an idea. Do you think it's too much of a dare to let Harry read the first page of the letter I wrote after my unfortunate fall? Conceal the incriminating part on the back. It should give an explanation why we reached a state of cease-fire. Harry has never been one to ask too many questions. He won't have any trouble to believe I got drunk for no apparent reason (I have a record of doing it sometimes) and wanted to shout at my mother. In combination with the previous ones, he will be convinced that I'm absolute back to normal, except that I feel gratitude for the effort you took to save my life.

  



	30. Severus: Letter #15

Headmaster's office,

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Sirius Black

12 Grimmauld Place. London

I will arrive, then, in the early morning of Friday 22nd of December, via the floo network. As to the biscuits, I hope for Kreacher's sake that they smell like the Marzipan biscuits, and taste at least faintly like them. They are one of the few things I like about Christmas. I am an only child and not used to hordes of Blacks and Rosiers and Malfoys and Lestranges and and and...extended family for me lives in the Southeast and have money. I could use _Levicorpus_ on the lot of them and be drowned in Galleons. Me, bitter? Why no, sour will suffice.

Kreacher can be influenced with Legilimency as it is somewhat easy to plant a false memory. I hope we don't have to resort something that crude. The subtleties of kindness are much more amenable.

The Letter-Which-Should-Not-Have-Been-Sent aside, those early letters had blabbing from myself too, blatherings which make me squirm. For the sake of our mission, I do not mind exposing Harry to these letters.

Dickens was a Muggle's Muggle. I wouldn't expect a pureblood to read it. Austen is annoying. Shallow, two-dimensional characters and pithy blather about social conventions. I know Lily read them. I wondered if she were a bit vapid, as those novels were the rage among teenyboppers.

“The Charge of the Light Brigade” has subtle tones. Sometimes I think it was an antiwar poem that glorified war. Nice and cunning. I paid more attention to German and Russian literature. I despise my own culture, though it is fun to play in it.

Do you have a gift you would like? A bottle of Felix (for the mission) and the ability to borrow Gryffindor's sword to be used for the blood sacrifice? It should open most easily for the Basilisk venom and Basilisk blood imbibed in it? Or I could go to Hogsmeade and purchase you a pair of socks, too short, and wrap them in a piece of dirty oilcloth.

Never mind the snark, here's the ... truth. I am glad I took those same measures to save your life. Ahem. I don't wish to mention that again. Alexi will be happy to make your acquaintance. For an almost pure Burmese, she certainly loves dogs.  
See you and cursing you for the poetry now churning through my head,

Severus Snape


	31. Severus: Letter #16

Headmaster's Office,

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

 

Sirius Black

12 Grimmauld Place, London

 

Your great defender and one who seems blind to your every trait arrived this morning at my office. Harry Potter. I listened with amusement as he tried to guess the password. “Nettlebrew” did not occur to him for some reason. He cares about you but cannot see you, and tried in many and imbecilic ways to stop me from what he termed “insinuating your way into the Black family home.”

Potter has matured but still remains as arrogant as his predecessor. I don't care what he's accomplished, I don't want to listen to his prattle about how I am setting you up. In fact, you are luring me into an uneasy friendship, and I told Potter so. He even tried to use Legilimency on me, and I allowed him to try, placing cunning memories in my mind of the letters, which he then demanded to see. I have your correspondence in my desk and dealt them out like cards, the six I wished him to see, avoiding the letter-Which-Should-Not-Have-Been-Sent.

His eyebrows were knit, then raised on brow then another, disbelief etched on his face as his eyebrows travelled higher and higher, and then he threw them down on my desk.

“You are entrapping my godfather. Don't deny it.” I think that's word for word.

“Of course I would spend precious time trying to corner Sirius Black because I have so much free time, being Headmaster.” I couldn't help a sneer. It's just my signature.

He leafed through the six letters and asked for more. “That is private business between Sirius and myself, Potter.” For some reason, Potter smirked and replied, “Dumbledore always said the reason he trusted you was between himself and you, Snape.”

“Headmaster,” I corrected him.

“I'm not a student,” Potter says. He's as stubborn as I am. He read aloud from the first letter: “Everybody seems to be either too old or too young to understand...” Rubbish! I sacrifice and bleed against the Darkest wizard ever, and I don't understand?”

“Sirius wrote that, not me.” I smirked.

“You're not on first name terms, that's a lie, you're trying to rope me in...” Potter said.

I remember that sentence word for word because it bit. Are we really on first name terms? I feel like a fly to a spider at moments like these. Me, rope you in. It's more the opposite, with you wanting to use me to recover Regulus and tame your Christmas while killing two birds with one stone when it comes to Kreacher's memory...and Potter's.

“Potter, are you as much of a dunderhead as you appear? Or is your intelligence simply so amazing that it can no longer function due to the insanity that is true brilliance?” I asked cuttingly.

Potter chose (wisely) not to answer. He nodded gravely over the first letter I sent you. “That sounds like you. All the sarcasm and nasty asides, siding with the Slytherin brother.” I gave him a grim smile. “Thank you,” I said sardonically.

(Remember this is how I remember it – but my memory for the trivial stays with me....)

“'You hid like a whinging child?' Sirius? Someone's got their ass on backwards.”

“Language, Potter, or I will have Peeves do as he wishes with you.” I waited for the point to sink in and said slowly, “I no longer believe him to be a coward, not does he accuse me of this either.”

Similar scenes as he re-read the pages. He got to letter seven, he read aloud, or muttered aloud, “...sometimes Dumbledore is unconcerned with such trivial matters such as locking up a free man and outfoxing the cunning man..” that sounds like you, Severus. (He called me Severus.) Being penetrating and empathetic all at once. But I want to know what you wish of Sirius. What are your intentions?”

“They change over time. Friendship. And do not say what you think. I have had friends. Most of them are incarcerated. Yes, and I want a friend who is haunted by light and darkness and understands the subtleties of paradox. Something which you seem to lack.”

“You..you mean it? Friends with Sirius?” Potter looked perplexed.

“He has a certain insight. You saw selected memories of mine in the Shrieking Shack. You saw what I wished you to see. It was real, very real. But it was not a complete picture.” My mouth thinned.

“For what it's worth, you have my partial trust. But don't go near Ginny or I'll hex you.” He ran his hand through his hair in a way so reminiscent of James Potter.

“I'm positively trembling in my boots,” I sneered. “I think I'll skip Ginny. She is far more accomplished at hexing than yourself.”

“Bah, see you at Grimmauld Place. I think he can handle you, and there will be a horde of Weasleys on hand. If Molly can take down Bellatrix, I think Bill, in particular, could curse you with a specialist's eye, all those curses he's learned to break in Egypt.”

“See you there Potter. Now out, I have owl post to attend to.”

And so Harry Potter left my office, round as it is, and left me to a comment from Phineas: “A fully grown man and still as impertinent as a child.”

I nodded my satisfaction at Phineas' words. Then I wrote this letter.

 

With caution,

Severus (Snape)


	32. Sirius: Letter #16

12 Grimmauld Place, London

Severus Snape  
Headmaster's Office  
Hogwarts

Severus?

First names terms? Why not? I think we're past Snivellus and Mongrel, aren't we?

I've warned you that Harry has been a bit over-protective since my return. I wouldn't mind if he reminded me of James, but with me, he's a nice mixture of Molly and Minerva. He actually ordered _“Bread on Brooms”_ , a service for elderly wizards and witches, when I moved back here. Worried that little Sirrikins doesn't eat his veggies. It took me four weeks to scare away the obstinate delivery witch. There's a good Indian takeaway just around the corner, open all hours, thank you very much. 

If you feel lured into something you don't want to do, forget that I asked. I'd appreciate your help with Harry, but I can search every cave on the South-Eastern coast all by myself, if necessary. I don't care whether it takes months or even years. I don't try to use you. We both had enough of that for a lifetime.

Don't worry about Kreacher. I know a sure way to get him on my – our? - side should tradition, reason and honesty fail. It's simply that Harry won't let me alone with him. We can't even think of trying to use any magic to influence his free will. Hermione has just passed an addition to her house elves act which forbids the use of otherwise legal mind-meddling curses on enslaved beings. That would get us a free trip to the sea, but to the North not East.

There's something else you wrote and I repeat Harry's question. Do you mean it? I do! Let's say dogs are pack animals; they don't get on without..... Friends?

I don't know if it works, but if we're not at each other's throats by Saturday morning, we might give it a try.

Sirius


	33. Sirius: Visitors

~Sirius~

"Thanks, Harry. I appreciate your kindness. When can I expect Kreacher? There's a whole lot to be done before the party.

“He should arrive any minute. I can trust you to keep your promise, can I, Snuffles?”

_I sincerely hope the flames hide that my broad grin may look a bit forced._

"Sure, Harry. I will be a very good boy. No growling behind the elf's back, no snapping at his legs, no tearing at his tea towel.”

_I give him the barking laugh he once used to like so much and I can't help remembering the day when we cast the Fidelius. Harry's little fingers pulling at the fur of the large black dog, trying to climb on my back to have a ride. James lifting him up and holding him straight. Me slowly trotting through the cottage's living room..._

_The best way to settle suspicion is a well measured dose of blunt truth._

“I really want this party to be a success. It means something to me. I need Kreacher's help to decorate the house and feed 18 people. I can hardly hire a catering service. I'm very grateful for Molly's and Ginny's offer, but this is my house, my party and they will be my guests.” _Look straight at the head in the fire, Sirius_. “Honestly, Harry, I don't bear a grudge against the elf anymore. He acted like a good house elf should, loyal to my brother. I can't blame him. I'm fine. I've settled in. I'm going to start a job in the new year.”

“Eh, about your new job... You don't really trust Snape, do you? You used to hate each other. Why on earth should he offer you a job, unless he's up to something?”

_Poor Severus, always the one to blame. I can't deny relief that Harry is definitely on the wrong track, though. I solemnly swear I'm up to no good._

“Look, Harry, let's get a few things straight. I'm a grown-up man, twice your age. I'm perfectly able to take my own decisions. I'm going to work at Hogwarts as a teacher, not signing a commitment to become Snape's personal house elf. Haven't you told me to find something to do? I'm qualified for the job; I want it and Snape is willing to give me a chance. His terms are reasonable and he accepts my limits. That's it! I don't trust Severus any more than he trusts me.”

“You ...are... on first name terms?”

“We were classmates. You can't expect me to call him Professor or Headmaster. I'm not working for him, yet. We have a lot in common.”

“Sure, a lot in common. You tried to kill him at school and he wanted to hand you over to the dementors. You couldn't stand being in the same room without starting a fight. What makes you think that has changed?”

“Harry please. I was sixteen and a thoughtless idiot. I didn't mean anyone to get hurt. Thanks to James nobody got hurt. I wanted – never mind that's none of your business. I do remember every little bit of what happened in the shack the day I finally had the chance to talk to you. Severus thought me the traitor, but when he had the perfect chance to finish me off without raising any suspicion, he didn't. He could have taken you and Hermione back to the castle and left me to the returning dementors. Your Patronus faded when your time turner doubles hurried back to the hospital wing. Not even Dumbledore would have doubted his word that it had been too late for me. It was pretty close. He didn't kill me when he had the opportunity and more than one good reason. Why should he do it now? He goddamn saved my soul that night … and yours.”

_He looks more at ease, almost convinced._

_Saved by the bell!_

“Harry, there's someone at the door. I need to go. See you on Saturday.”

“Bye..... Sirius.”

_Since when do house elves knock at the front door?_

“Hermione, what a pleasant surprise. How very kind of you to bring Kreacher yourself.”

_Kreacher? Oh yeah, there he is, halfway hiding behind her travelling cloak, staring at me balefully. Great, winning him over won't be easy._

“Come on in, you'll catch a cold in the drizzling rain. Both of you.” _I give Kreacher a look to let him know that this was a direct order. He understands._

“Let me have your coat. Awful that weather, isn't it? It's been like that for a week now. What about a nice cup of tea? I have the kettle on. Kreacher? Would you...?”

_Kreacher hurries into the kitchen. I think I can trust him not to try poisoning Hermione which means I will get a really good tea myself._

“Thank you very much, tea would be great.”

_When we enter the kitchen; Kreacher is pouring boiling water on the leaves. I take a deep breath; I usually don't bother with real tea, tea bags are less fuss. He places a nice cup and saucer of the house's best china – where has he got it from? - in front of Hermione and bangs a chipped mug on the table, just two inches out of my reach._

“Thank you, Kreacher.”

_By the looks from both of them I must have sprouted violet horns or something. I can't help chuckling at the thought and stop abruptly when their faces show pure horror. Pull yourself together Sirius Black, you've worked too hard for your chance of payback to waste it over a mug of tea and a stubborn house elf. Same strategy as with Harry, calculated truth. I reach for the mug, looking at Hermione, trying to smile apologetically.Brrrrghhh! This rotten son of an elf has put salt in my tea!_

“Stop it, Kreacher! Now!” _Just in time, before he smashed his fingers with the oven door. 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10._

“Let me deal with it, Hermione.” __

_Smiling again, faintly. Don’t overdo it. Alright, she doesn’t seem to think I’ll kill him in her presence._

“Listen, you don’t punish yourself without my explicit permission, while you're at **my house**. Actually, you’re forbidden to punish yourself at all. Have I made myself clear?”

"Yes, Master Sirius.”

_This is all going wrong. I want him on my side, our side. Yelling at him and forcing him into obedience won’t help, but there's no way to talk reason with him as long my babysitter is around. When has Severus said he’ll be here? This is all part of a bizarre nightmare. SNAPE - the only man I can trust - wrong, Snape is the only man who doesn’t believe I’ve gone mad. I wish I was. Back in the blissful state of delusion, trusting the old man’s wisdom, because he always knew and he was always right. How easy things were back then..._

_One step after another._

_Under Hermione's watchful eyes I empty the mug into the sink and get a new one out of the cupboard. Yes Kreacher, I have a whole set of them. I pour me a second cup and add two spoons of brown sugar. It's brown sugar for Master Sirius, Kreacher, you must have forgotten._

“Don't you agree that we should handle this situation like adults? I surely appreciate the company of a beautiful young witch at 8.30 in the morning, but we both know that's not the reason why you're here.” _The reason why she is here is still standing in front of the oven, not moving at all._ Give me a minute to put the elf to good use, cause that's why he is here.” _I made her feel uncomfortable. Fine, I'm not the only one who thinks this situation is annoying. I turn to Kreacher._ “Master Harry has told you why I asked for your assistance?”

 _He nods._ ”So why don't you just start working? The things from your shopping list are in the pantry. Check, if you have everything you need.”The elf hurries to the small door at the back of the kitchen. “Kreacher, I won't be the only one to eat your dinner, so please don't make a mess of it.”

_It's still enough time to get replacements for everything he might drop until Hermione is gone. I hope. I return to the table. Why am I so nervous? It's not like I'm planning to do something wrong or evil. I simply want to get a couple of things sorted and take my life into my own hands. About time! They don't like it; they don't understand, but it's not their business anyway and I really don't need a babysitter._

"Right. Just tell me what you think I'm going to do. Kill the elf? Torture him into insanity? I have no such intentions.”

"Well Sirius, you know... You've only just returned,” _About seven months ago..._ “ You've been through a lot and it's only natural that you blame Kreacher for your....”

"Death? Misfortune? For goodness sake, I know what happened. Kreacher was confused and angry. And I wasn't at my best either. I had a hard time being trapped in this house and feeling useless.” __

_I give her that guilty puppy look. It still works._

"Look at me, Hermione. Do I look like a mad house elves killer? Haircut washed and combed, fully and decently dressed – I followed Ginny's advice to bring my wardrobe into the 21st century – putting up weight, after my own taste,” _This was necessary because I'm pretty sure the stupid delivery service was her idea. She got the point and looks slightly embarrassed._ "and it's before 9 o'clock and I don't have a hangover.”

Now she looks shocked which makes me laugh.

 __“C'mon, don't pretend you didn't notice I rarely was sober last time. The war is over, I'm alive and back. It's Christmas and I want to celebrate with my family and friends.”"Family? Friends? Professor Snape and the Malfoys?”

"Harry, you, a dozen Weasleys, my cousin Andromeda... and Severus Snape and my cousin Narcissa. I thought I've already explained to you and Harry why I invited Narcissa. She's never been like Bellatrix. I do owe Andromeda a favour. You don't have siblings, you can't understand what it means to miss them.”

"Your brother...”

"My brother is dead. Narcissa isn't and if it makes Andromeda happy to see her again, I'll do my best. All I ask from you is to respect that I want them to be my guests. Is this really asking too much for Christmas?”

"Well, no. It was so sudden and unexpected. Those invitations, your correspondence with Professor Snape... When Harry told us what you wrote..., “ _She stops abruptly. Oops, the brightest witch of her age slipped. At least she has second thoughts about discussing the content of other people's private letters. Unlike some people._ "Go on. Severus has kindly informed me of Harry's visit, though we both have not expected him to share his information with the whole Weasley family.”Not the whole family, just us. Ron, Ginny, me. He said the letters sounded pretty normal, sane.”

"Thank you very much. Imagine adult men may settle their arguments verbally.”

"Looks like you really did.”

"So why don't you leave me to my holiday preparations and go wherever you really want to be?”

"I think I will.”

 _I escort her to the front door and help her to her coat._ See you tomorrow at seven and my compliments to Molly and Ginny.”

_She waves Goodbye and then Apparates from the square. Returning to the kitchen I hear strange sounds emerge from the pantry._

__"Kreacher, is anything wrong?”

"No Master Sirius, everything's fine. Kreacher just wonders – there are a few things which were not on Kreacher's list.”

"Such as?”

"Honey, hazelnuts, sugar beet treacle. And marzipan?”

"Somebody told me recently that marzipan is quite good, so I bought some. I was sure I remember all those other things from past Christmas. You have no idea what to make of it?”

_Of course, he has. He violently shakes his head, ears flapping._

"No, no, no! Kreacher won't know, Kreacher won't, won't, won't! Not for you. Not Master Regulus' biscuits – for you. You don't deserve it, you're a bad son, a bad brother. You made my master cry.”

"Yes, I did, but Regulus shared them with me all the same. Don't you think he would have liked it if you let them dance one more time? I can't undo what I've done, but I will do something, the only thing left to do to make up for it. If you could just make this Christmas like it was in the old times like he had loved it - not for me, for Regulus and for a friend of his who promised to help me.”

"Master Regulus didn't like Christmas; he didn't want Kreacher's biscuits anymore –not without you.” __

 __  
  
The elf's last word, though merely a whisper hurt more than his insults. I want to scream 'I'm sorry', but that doesn't mean anything, does it?  
  


__"You should have been here, where you belonged. You ran away; left Master Regulus, when he needed you. You are the eldest! You should have protected him!..........You never answered his letters! Where were you, when your father died? Where were you, when we went to that cursed cave to defy the Dark Lord? Where were you, when my mistress waited for him to return? She ordered Kreacher to tell, but Master Regulus had forbidden me to tell. Until it was confirmed, she waited! For you! You never came... You betrayed your family, your blood!" __

 _Trembling, rocking back and forth, fighting the urge to punish himself for shouting at his master Kreacher lets out all those accusations none of which I can deny. I could offer explanations, excuses – no answers. Where was I? Probably helping James to choose his wedding robes. Reassuring Lily that I deliver him to the ceremony in passable condition. Fighting Death Eaters, printing and handing out leaflets which made fun of what never was funny. Helping People who had been unfortunate or foolish enough to raise Voldemort's attention to go into hiding or out of the country. Talking others into helping us, only to find that they were to pay a high price. Believing in myself and my friends as equals to the knights of the round table. Enjoying myself tremendously. I only found out about Regulus disappearance weeks later, one more line in a war report._  
__

_I get down on my knees – how pathetic - to face Kreacher on the same level. I grab his shoulders to stop him trembling and look right at him._

"I don't order you; I won't order you. Please Kreacher, listen to me. I beg you....”

_The fire crackles and turns green._


	34. Severus: 12 Grimmauld Place

_I pick up my belongings, (a suitcase and a box of books and essential potions ingredients) from the study floor, and hesitate for a moment as I decide whether Sirius Black is the man I dare to hope him to be. Rough and ....yes, kind as his letters suggest, but also raw agitation. A diamond that is in the rough again. Not that I ever appreciated his 'brilliance' as a child and young man._

_I scatter floo powder into the magnificent marble fireplace. I close my eyes and hope I'll meet, my supposedly dark and humourless (have people never heard of sarcasm?) eyes meeting the pale and strained but not insane._

_The fire flicks for only moments more. I snap_ “Sirius!” _at the flames - the fire knows where to go - and I and my luggage are in a swirling haze of green. So much emerald green to get to a lion that seems more beaten than proud. I hope he proves me wrong. The slapping sensation and then I threw out my hands and fell on my knees in the kitchen of 12 Grimmauld Place._

_I stand and see an odd sight. A very, very odd sight. A shaking Sirius is on his knees, his arms clutching a terrified house-elf, Kreacher, the very one to always insult Sirius. He insulted me too. I found it amusing in a twisted way, but this is far from amusing. Sirius is mid-sentence in beseeching the elf. I sweep over to the pair of them, remembering the nature of the beast. He is not insane, he is desperate. There is a difference, a fantastic difference, that Potter never sees._

_I halt, then put my hand on Sirius' shoulder._

“This is not one of the best known ways to persuade a house-elf, but then, I don't know the circumstances.”

_I feel like leaving out of nerves, but they've never stopped me in the past, and this is, after all, the first time I greet Sirius as a friend. He flinches at my touch. How touching, I look at Kreacher, who is looking both livid and afraid._

“Circumstances are everything.” 

_I offer my hand to Sirius, to help him to his feet. Will he take it?_


	35. Sirius/Severus: House Elves and Teddy Bears

~Sirius~

_Severus! Not long ago I would have thought his words a taunt, his touch an insult. I can't stop flinching though and am scared he will misunderstand again. He doesn't know, he can't know. Too sudden, too unhoped-for. Four years are awfully long without human touch... Circumstances are everything? Is his hand an offer of friendship or pity? If I was going to convince him of my sanity, I guess I'm about to fail miserably. I try to get a hold of myself... and of his hand while getting to my feet without taking advantage of the offered assistance._

“Welcome,” _is all I manage to say and my voice doesn't sound ..nearly as confident as I wish. I meet his eyes and keep eye contact. I hope he understands. Nothing to hide!_

_~Severus~_

_I look at Black, in the eyes, and see no loathing. How strange and welcome. He does stretch out a hand which anyone but I could have predicted._

"Are you going to tell me why?"   
_I ask, not bothering to clarify myself. Then I add,_  
"Begging for scraps like a hound dog?"

_~Sirius~_

_Straight to the point. Why? Because I'm an idiot; because I couldn't stop myself once I got rid of the girl. I shrug._

"Always glad to give you a chance to use one from your endless collection of dog jokes."

_I know I sound exasperated, but that's how I feel._

"To answer your question I thought I'd start convincing the elf right away. Not very successfully."

_~Severus~_

_I smirk._

“That wasn't a very convincing attempt from where I stand. No need to make the elf writhe with happiness when it has such a poor master.”

_I look around._

“You have been entertaining, other than the elf, I mean. Could it be Harry, or perhaps Mrs Hermione Weasley, escorting the elf?“

_I ask, bowing slightly, unable to keep the irony out of my voice._

_~Sirius~_

_I value that he's not oblivious to the irony of the situation._

"Oh... sure, Hermione has been so kind..."

_Remembering my manners I gesture him to take a seat._

"Have a cup of tea? Milk? Sugar?" _I move the used cup to the sink._ "Or do you prefer coffee?”

_~Severus~_

"Honey in Chamomile, I prefer it to a Calming Draught. See if Kreacher will consent to make it. But of course, he may still listen to your mother's pleading portrait, though I take it she is gone. Perhaps her pleas in memory?”

 _I snort with derision,_ "Will you ask him? After that touching scene"

_I tell Sirius, not taking my eyes from his. His gaze is steady._

_~Sirius~_

_“Better tell him yourself. He's not too willing to do me a favour. Maybe he remembers you."_

__  
_~Severus~_  


_I move my eyes swiftly onto Kreacher._ “Kreacher,” _I say placidly,_ “I am Master Regulus' old friend, you must remember,”

_Kreacher shudders._

“Oh Mistress did not like you, nasty son of a Muggle and a blood traitor, friend of Mudbloods.”

_I blanch. He certainly remembers. Perhaps he actually is still taking orders from memory, snark proven right?_

_~Sirius~_

"Enough of that, Kreacher! I thought we're past that nonsense. What do you think Mistress Hermione will say of that word?"

_The elf throws himself flat on his belly. He's shivering again._

"Kreacher doesn't mean it. Mistress Hermione isn't.... She's been kind to Kreacher. Very kind. She's a witch. She's a friend of Master Harry, a good friend."

_~Severus~_

“You are correct, Kreacher, she is a witch, one who thinks highly of Master Regulus and Master Sirius too. Can you see what she sees, Kreacher, can you see what she thinks of Master Sirius? A hero and a good man.” _I can't help the sarcasm bleeding everywhere, nor would I stop it if I could.._

_But I am barely smirking, and I have an otherwise unreadable expression. I wait._

_Kreacher shakes his head._ "No no no no NO! Kreacher will not! Kreacher will not hear!"

_~Sirius~_

_I start admiring Severus for his nerves. He has no reason to bear Kreacher's insults so calmly. I have done enough to deserve it, given Kreacher too many reasons to hate me. It's not blood prejudice which stands between us. It's blood. I shake my head._

“Leave it, Severus, it doesn't work. This calls for … desperate measures.”

_Kreacher cowers; Severus' look is questioning, then as I draw my wand alarmed. I laugh, it's a genuine laugh of relief because I've always known deep inside that it would come to this and now that I've made the decision to forsake my childish pride, I'm almost looking forward to it. This helps; I need a happy thought._

“Expecto Patronum!”

_We watch the silvery mist take form and when the bear cub turns somersaults around the disbelieving elf, I don't feel embarrassed anymore. This is the way it is and always has been. Kreacher makes a strange sound and runs to clutch my legs with such vehemence that I almost fall over. I look at Severus and I don't care if he bursts out in laughter._

_~Severus~_

_"So," _I say to Sirius, who has after all just b(e)ared himself,_ "You thought you were no standard bearer for the ancient house of Black. You have just proved yourself worthy of your name. Am I correct in assuming that you bear a resemblance to Arcturus, the 'Bear Guardian'?" _I can't help but give a smirk, yet at the same time, I feel shocked._ “This was Regulus' Patronus, I remember too well,” I say less sure of myself this time. _

_~Sirius~_

_I cannot but laugh at the joke and about the fact that it is Severus Snape who made it. I had no idea that he has any sense of humour beyond sarcasm._

“Ten points to Slytherin, Professor Malkin might have said. Astronomy NEWT, if I remember correctly? You are the...... second person to figure that out.”

_I don't want to remember the first. Dumbledore's look was less than amused. It's not exactly a recommendation for a young member of the Order of the Phoenix when his Patronus refers to his Death Eater brother. I must have frowned; Severus looks puzzled. I smile again; I'm still too happy that somebody knows and doesn't mind. Somebody else than Kreacher who is still … kind of snogging my jeans, whispering my name and Regulus'._

“Kreacher? Professor Snape is still waiting for his chamomile tea.”

_The elf looks up, beaming._

“Kreacher hurries. Best tea for Master Snape. Anything Master Sirius says.”

_House elves!_

“Mischief managed.” _I say which makes Severus frown._

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to remind you....”

_I've always been horrible at apologizing. Try a change of subject?_

“Regulus' Patronus, you said? I thought Death Eaters can't… well, the charm wasn't on the Hogwarts syllabus in our time. Dumbledore taught us himself when we joined the Order. I had no idea that Regulus could. You're right 'Arcturus' for his middle name hardly anyone remembered. It was the obvious choice as far as choice works with Patronuses, almost....”

_I smile reminiscently, it was second best actually. Severus raises his eyebrows, waiting for an explanation. I oblige._

“At first it seemed to take another form, a young mammal, small ears, big paws, long tail. James was the first to comment. 'Wow, that's some great Patronus, mate, a lion cup!' He sounded a bit envious, so Gryffindor. I felt proud, though I knew he was completely wrong. Nothing Gryffindor about it, 'Regulus', brightest star in the constellation Leo. As soon as he had said it, we noticed that what we had taken for the lion's tail was just the string of silver coming out of my wand. The animal got rounder and rounder, legs shorter than the body and then it stood on its hind legs, there was no mistake. 'A teddy bear!' You can imagine they were roaring with laughter. Lily saved the situation. She gave James a look which shut him up and declared that this was the cutest Patronus she'd seen. She named it 'Paddington' after a Muggle children story. Cute was not exactly what I had hoped for, but better than to explain to James that I still cared for my snake brother.”

_~Severus~_

“Your 'snake brother' told me what his Patronus meant. He knew right away, having studied Black family history in some detail. No, most Death Eaters can't make a Patronus, but if one retains a certain ...independence of spirit... and know how to work the Charm, then one can perform it. For many, it would have been impossible, but Regulus was an idealist. That and Araminta showed him.”

_Sirius cocks his head to one side and takes a large sip of his tea, which Kreacher has just provided. Ah, the chamomile with honey was quite welcome for me, as Kreacher passes it I nod at him. Kreacher bows. Sirius looks exhausted but interested. Apparently, he doesn't know._

“Did you know Araminta Davies?”

_Sirius shakes his had._

“She was in our year, but she went for Regulus, though he was young. Pug nose, impertinent, long dark hair, played chaser on the Ravenclaw team?”Not sure if there is look of recognition but I press on. “She taught Regulus what she had learnt from her father and that is how he came to have a Patronus, like Potter...Harry, at the age of fifteen. Araminta was a skilled witch and ended up being killed by a Death Eater. Ironic. She's the one who gave Regulus the impetus to become a Death Eater in the first place. She always told him, and they went out for three years, that she valued the power of a wizard far beyond other traits. But when she found out what he'd done, she ditched him for some other idiotic Ravenclaw.”

_~Sirius~_

_I try to remember the girl._

“Ravenclaw chaser? No idea. I don't remember many players from other teams. Kept an eye on the beaters and the opponent seeker, but there was no need to bother with other chasers when James was playing. Reggie never mentioned her at home as far as remember, but we were not really on speaking terms anymore since 5th year. “

_~Severus~_

“You know that 5th year is the worst. Not because of exams. Life was hell. It was for me. Not that I feel sorry for myself or you, but it seems we were stripped of our decency precisely by that what defines us.” _I hunch slightly, then realise, though chose my words carefully, that I said more than I realised. I scowl at my own rare over-large tongue and I see Sirius is lost in memory. This is a good thing,..._

_~Sirius~_

_It hurts to think of it. Regulus had tried to keep contact until 4 th year when he became Slytherin seeker and beat us for the cup. Before that, a short nod of acknowledgement and a few words aside of the crowds were still possible, but socialising with the Slytherin seeker was out of the question. Short of high treason, for both of us probably._

_Kreacher has started to mess about in the kitchen, making a lot of noise, cluttering the table with all sorts of food and kitchenware. He is pretty obvious. I look at Severus; he has finished his tea._

“I think Kreacher wants us out of his way. If you follow me, I'll show you your room and you can get rid of your luggage. Your cat, Alexi? - probably wants to stretch its legs or lie down in a more comfortable place.”

_~Severus~_

_"Meooowwww, howl, meoowww_ ", _confirms Sirius words._

_"It might be appreciated. Being around someone such as yourself can be rather, er, wearing."_

_~Sirius~_

_Severus grabs his packages; he's travelling light. Of course, ready to walk out on this anytime. I couldn't expect anything else. We climb the stairs. The bedrooms are on the third floor.I've kept my old room, done a bit of redecorating myself. I'm not sixteen anymore and I really took a Muggle evening class in interior decoration. Next to mine is Regulus' old room. The only other one left untouched by the Weasley cleaning spree, nearly. They removed the pictures and newspaper clippings. I don't think Regulus would have minded. The ones Harry and Ron used are next. I open all three doors to give Severus the choice. Ron's is a mess; orange for the Chudley Cannons doesn't go well with Gryffindor red and gold. Harry's more decent, but also sporting a lot of Quidditch memorabilia from Ginny's pro career._

“Your choice...”

_I give him an apologetic look. I usually avoid opening the door to Ron's room._

“All cleaned and with a working ensuite. See you downstairs in the drawing room, when ever you're ready.” _ ___

 __I think he welcomes some time on his own – as much as I do.


	36. Severus: Time on his own

_~Severus~_

_I shake my head. Ron's room, a family of potion makers to rival the worst I've had. I jerk my head irritably in the direction of Regulus' room. I know he won't have played with Regulus' belongings, and I just have to needle him a little. He showed too much too soon and it will take before I recover from his blaring._

_“ _Is there a single room, perhaps, where the overstated lion hasn't roared its decoration, or are you actually sensible enough to offer a guest a different choice, Slytherin perhaps? Have you at least left Regulus' room alone or is it decked out with...”__

__  
_Sirius holds up a hand of caution. I smile in a satisfied way. He is showing self-respect. I hope the 'smile' looks sarcastic and approving at the same time. I know we are going to Regulus' old room for sure, and Sirius looks grim and satisfied at the same time. We seem to be sending complex signals to each other, and I hope I never understand them._  


_Sirius holds open the door for me and lights the lamps with his wand. He tells me to come downstairs later, and a few other things I pay no attention to. I am too busy being haunted by memories and more memories. I wonder for a moment if I should retreat to gold and scarlet, but I know that is impossible. I have no choice. I share the room with what Regulus left behind. No pictures, no paper clippings, no rubbish where I once searched for a picture and words of Lily's. No more Quidditch teams but the grey and silver decorations remain. Sirius quietly closes the door behind me._

_Kreacher has been cleaning, I can tell he has done an extra-thorough job in this room. The pillows with serpents with silver scales embroidery look newer than when Regulus was alive. Not one fault in the stitching. Sirius and his madness. I have the same madness. We can not stand that such potential and goodness be wiped out when Regulus did not deserve to go. Braver than half of Gryffindor house, and just as much cunning for Slytherin. I think of this life, not wasted, but thrown aside for The Greater Good. I slam my fist into one of the posters of Regulus' bed. It is worse to stay among what makes me feel at home. Because it brings everything home._

_I open my bag and the cat carrier with Alexi in it. She slinks blackly out of the carrier and hides beneath the bed. I look at her slender form slide underneath and wish I could join her, hide until things are less scary._

_“Perhaps that is what resting is for,” _I sigh aloud as I unpack. I notice that Regulus' old robes are still in the closet, and I touch them. He lived, and he wore these. Identical to my own Slytherin robes, about the same size I am now. The bizarre idea comes to take a nap with Regulus' cloak covering me and to sleep on top of the bed. I can't shake it. It seems like protection. No average protective charms work like that.__

__  
__  
I lie down on top of the bed and pull black material with silver and green trim over me. It has been a taxing day so far and Regulus may have the strangest brother and live only in memory, but I am somehow honour bound to put up with this rubbish at least until Christmas is over. The Potters. The Weasleys. Merlin save me. But there will be Andromeda and Narcissa and that imp Draco, my own godson. It will be a busy social occasion, I think with loathing.  
  


_And I never guessed this would happen the time I responded to Sirius' first letter. With that disquieting thought, I fall asleep._

_I wake up cold. I've kicked off the covers, no, the cloak. I stand and stretch my tense muscles. My jaw aches from grinding my teeth. So tense so soon. Signs of the times. I put Regulus' cloak back in the closet. Wouldn't want to be caught. On a similar note, I hope Kreacher isn't snogging Sirius' trousers again. I don't know what to expect and hope we can get down to some action, doing something useful, rather than idle chatter. Perhaps the preparations for the Christmas party. I am not going to conceal my impatience with the man. He seems to seek approval from people. I'm not going to provide._


	37. Sirius: Padfoot and Alexi

~Sirius~

_Time on my own – needed? One should think I've had enough of that - I actually had enough for a deathtime._

_But no matter what we're both not the kind for small talk nor are we up to tackle the real issues right now. I kind of overwhelmed him, confused him and yes, charmed him to come into my lair, but he's not one to like being charmed for long. When he comes to his senses, he will either loathe me again or worse pity me for trying to use him as a poor replacement for what I've lost so many years ago. And as usual be completely wrong. I am lonely and kind of desperate to find a friend, but far from being as broken as he seems to think. I'm not looking for what I've lost but for what I never had … no, threw away before I knew it was there. When James said, “I thought you seemed all right.” on the train, I made a choice. I wanted his friendship more than anything and was willing to prove by any means I was all right. I made that choice. I don't blame James; **he** didn't **make** me do the things I did because of that choice._

“How did the first practise in snake charming go?”

_Phineas Nigellus' voice welcomes me to the drawing room._

“Reasonably well, as you see I haven't received a lethal bite.” 

_The portrait's eyes are watching me, trying to figure out what that's supposed to mean._

“I hope you know what you're doing. I've grown fond of having a respectable inhabitant in the headmaster's office, after all those years with the idiot Dippet and his successor. You're not going to hurt Snape, are you?”

“You have my full sympathy for all those wasted decades, grandfather. Since when do you care for him so much? You haven't given him a warning what I might be up to. I assure you, I don't have any intention to hurt Severus, quite the contrary. This is going to be a Black Christmas party and he is the guest of honour. I hope he'll enjoy the show.”

_Phineas doesn't seem to like my smile._

“I don't think I exactly understand what you're up to, my boy.”

“Fine, so you can't blab to **other** portraits. Certain colleagues of you should learn not to meddle with the living anymore. Let's say the party is my way to express gratitude for all the overwhelming care and hospitality I received. Nobody's getting hurt as long as they behave reasonably.” 

_He still looks doubtful and worried._

“Does it put you at ease if I tell you that Andromeda is in on the proceedings and though she doesn't fully approve, she accepts my reasons and agreed to help?”

“I can't stop you anyway.”

“No, you can't!” _Can he tell the difference between determination and madness?_

“There's something else you might help me with. Kreacher acted rather unexpectedly towards Severus. I thought he would respect him as Regulus' friend, but he didn't. Mother was a pureblood maniac, but she usually tolerated Slytherin halfbloods with the _right_ attitude as long as they were not trying to marry a Black. Can you tell me something about it?”

“Not much, I'm afraid. Your parents and Snape's mother, pureblood with the maiden name Eileen Prince, were together at Hogwarts. Eileen Prince must have been in your father's year, a few years below Walpurga. There are one or two Princes on the family tree, early 1800s. If I remember correctly, one of my great-uncles was married to a Prince.“

“Thanks, it was just something I wondered about.”

 _I cut him off before he starts to give me a full account of seven hundreds years family history. I haven't come here to discuss things. I need a break, not thinking and there's one sure way to shut down. The portrait groans:  
_ “ ….not grown up.... impertinent brat.... flea-bitten mutt.”

_Padfoot doesn't listen. He turns around five times on the thick rug in front of the fireplace._

_Turning around is important to flatten the grass and make sure no snakes are hidden underneath the rug. Stretch my legs, the warmth of the fire on my back. Yes, that's it. I rub my nose over the rug, freshly washed, nice smell, though there's still that faint trace of last week's hip bone. Delicious, bone with peony and lemon. What's the sticky stuff on my left hind leg? Tea. Milk. Salt? House elf. KREACHER! I can hear him in the kitchen. No dogs in the kitchen! We'll see to that … later._

_There's someone upstairs. I remember; it's Snape. He doesn't like me, too. Calls me names. Crookshanks says he's alright, not evil. He's a half-kneazle. He should know. Crookshanks knew the rat was dangerous. Never liked it. I hate the rat. Rat chasing is fun, but they taste awful. No rats in the house, not anymore. Mice? In the attic. Should I? No, not now, it' so comfortable lying here. Warm and quiet. I hate the cold, been cold for so long._

_Taps on the stairs, not human, not mice. A cat, slowly exploring, almost inaudible. I prick one ear. I like cats. They are quiet and soft and they smell of chocolate. The door opens. The cat scans the room. I lie still. Cats don't like jumping and tail-wagging. I wait. The cat slowly approaches, slowly, warily. It's not afraid of dogs. I move my tail, only the lower end. It – she understands. She knows dogs. She comes even closer, starts sniffing at my paws. One after the other. Hey, I'm ticklish. She continues her inspection. My tail moves again and she jumps to catch it. No claws, nice kitty. I raise my head to watch her. Funny little thing. Watching the tail's movements, lie in wait for the right moment and jump. Got it; no, it's gone again. Now she' lying on top of it, grabbing it with all four paws, nibbling at the fur. A swish and my tail wipes the floor with her. She looks irritated, but in no way discouraged. There's another of those swishing things, smaller. She runs in circles, but it evades her. She bites in the tip. Ouch, never mind, this happens to all of us._

_My turn now. I want to know you. Drawing her close with one paw I begin to nuzzle up and down her belly, and then along her spine, carefully nibbling. Lie still, I don't slobber. What do you think I am, a bulldog? Yes, chocolate, dark and soft, almost melting.... and something else. Peppermint and thyme, frogs and snails, cloves and other spices. I know that smell. Snape's cat!_

“Grrrr!”

”Meowww!” _Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. Calm down again, I quite like your purr. It's just that I didn't expect a pet like you. Something ugly or slimy and poisonous, but not nice and friendly and playful. Playful and Snape? I can't get those two words together. I suddenly imagine the cat jumping after Snape's ridiculous, swishing cloak. Maybe he only got her yesterday, because her predecessor died a sudden death. Nonsense, she smells like having been Snape's cat for a long time. This cat is well-fed and groomed and not shy. Snape cares for his pet. Maybe he is nice to animals in general._

_Me being an exception for a reason. Sirius let me lift my leg to Snape's travelling coat, whenever he left it in the hall at gatherings. I know he doesn't want me to do such things now. He wants to be friends with Snape, because of the plan I don't understand. It has something to do with his puppy brother I only met once or twice. He was nice, we shared a sandwich at the lakeside. The rat saw us and told Prongs. The boys had a fight and I understood that Sirius gets in trouble, when I take food from strangers. Hey, it was chicken with mayonnaise. I'd like to have seen Prongs refuse if someone offered him young sprouts or a block of salt to lick. Did I say I hate the rat?_

_Sirius used to hate Snape, but he doesn't anymore. He's angry with a lot of people, but not with Snape. I will check for myself; that's for sure. Humans can't smell danger._

_I don't believe that bad people have nice pets. Mrs Norris is as horrible as her owner. Fang is nice, though his flews are very wet. I'm allowed to take food from Hagrid. I want to go there to see Buckbeak. Be nice to Snape to go to Hogwarts. No, Sirius wouldn't care. If he wants to see Buckbeak, he will._

_I'd like to go soon, but Sirius has to do so many things only he can do. What's left to me? Visit the kitchen? No, Sirius won't like that. Hunting... in the attic._

_Hey Kitty, want some mice? C'mon, let's go! I push her with my nose. Follow me. I haven't hunted with the pack for a long time. Does she know how it works? I'll show her. It's pretty easy. One stirs them up and chases, the other makes the catch._

_She understands quickly. Cats are clever. Mice are stupid. One, two three, four, five. You've got enough? All right. Want to take the last to Snape as a present? Why not? I wonder if he'll like it. I really wonder because this will tell me about him. We reach the door. I stand back in the shadow. I want to watch and sniff._

“Meooww, meooww!”

 _The man behind the door stirs, he stands up, walks towards the door and opens it._ “Alexi,” _so that's her name. “_ what have you brought me? “ _he says with appreciation. I like this reaction. Some humans can't take a friendly gesture from their pets._

_Then he sees me. Tension, wariness! Be nice! I look at the most interesting stain on the floor, yawn and wag my tail slowly. Calming signals. I don' want to fight._

_Alexi feels the tension, too. She looks at both of us questioningly. I give more calming signals to set her at ease. I'm no threat to your human. I take a step forward, not looking at Snape. I can't smell aggression._

_Time to transform._

_I manage a broad grin._

“Padfoot took Alexi for a tour around the house. I hope you don't mind. Nice cat, you have. She has had her lunch. What do you think about a bite for us? Let's have Kreacher to make sandwiches and discuss what we're going to do this afternoon.”


	38. Severus/Sirius: Chicken Sandwiches

~Severus~

_I stand at the top of the stairs and look down. It really is a scintillating aroma. Gingerbread and cloves, almonds and of some kind of bird, my olfactory senses not what they once were but still capable of many distinctions. I've inhaled too many noxious fumes that my students produced to have a truly distinctive sense of smell. I haven't forgotten Sirius. I fix him with a cold look and as I walk with him, allowing him a slight lead as this is the Black residence, and say_

“Let's not thunder on the stairs, Sirius, or Kreacher will think you've fallen down the stairs to your death. He'd hurry off to Potter. Harry.” _I didn't say the last name backwards for no reason. Even when he is not here, he is present, Harry, at this residence. Irritating. Sirius snorts and I think he found me amusing. Interesting._

 _We descend the stairs more slowly._ “Stop sniggering, Black. Sirius,” I snarl. “Flea-bitten mongrel, and perhaps a canine as well.”

_My sense of humour seems to attract him rather than repel and he looks at me as though unable to believe I have any type of humour, and he stops near the kitchen door and ceases to snigger. He pauses for a moment, his eyes full of mischief that has never been to my liking. Thus far._

“Plans?” _I ask irritably as he sniffs the air like the hound he is, his olfactory senses certainly superior to mine. He doesn't answer. I suspect he is not ignoring me, just thinking of the answer._

_~ Sirius~_

_As we go down the stairs the air is already filled with the smell of Christmas, an odd mixture of roast and bakery, fruits and herbs. The kitchen is hot and steamy, something in between a beehive and a potion lab. Wooden spoons stir half a dozen pots and pans on the stove, eggbeaters whisk variations of cream and custard, brushes lie exhausted in their bowls of cold water, spiced oil and honey, gathering strength for their next jumps into the ovens to glaze whatever is in there. A small army of knives cut, chop and peel._

_Kreacher is standing in the centre of it all, keeping control of everything, like a conductor directing his orchestra. I hardly remember, when I've last seen him so happy or maybe I do …._

_I feel almost guilty to interrupt him, but we're starving._

“Masters, are you hungry? Kreacher knew. I've already prepared lunch.” _The elf greets us enthusiastically._ “Only a few sandwiches, Kreacher's been busy, “ _With a nearly apologetic movement he points at his cooking._ “I can prepare a full meal, if master Sirius wants one...”

“Sandwiches will do. Chicken with mayonnaise perhaps?”

_Kreacher nods and I'm relieved that he still has to keep an eye on his pots or he would be hugging me again. I need more time to get used to his affection. The small table in the corner is already set for two. Severus doesn't look too happy. Is it possible that he is not fond of chicken sandwiches? Judging by the size of the lidded platter on the table, he has no reason to worry._

_I have not been mistaken, a fair choice of everything we could wish for sufficient to feed a family of four. Severus looks surprised? If he expected anything less, he should have a word with the Hogwarts elves._

_~Severus~_

_I have remained silent until the sandwiches are served. Chicken. Did I neglect to mention that I rarely eat meat?_

“Any particular plans, Sirius? We cannot sit about all day, and I'm quite sure you're eager to get out and wag your tail.”

_The sarcasm in the last three word is inescapable. Sirius gives me a look, his eyes glinting with humour. He can be very hard to insult sometimes, and he is proud to be an Animagus._

“You might need supplies for the party. Or at least enough mulled wine to keep people in a good mood. I do not fear that you will make a prat of yourself in front of Slytherins, more that Slytherins will make prats of themselves in front of you. But you are used to this dynamic.”

 _ All right, my tone is sardonic, but I was just voicing a concern. He _ _**is** _ _ used to the dynamic. If he wasn't he never would have been able to write me the opening letter. I can't take this open attitude. It's so foreign it nearly warps my brain, and it seems he is capable of having Slytherins wrapped around his finger. I snort and take another bite.  _ _I won't succumb quite that easily. Sirius looks at me with his eyebrow raised, and it seems he knows what I'm thinking. Are snakes so predictable? I'll prove that theory false. Sirius would call this Slytherin paranoia. I look at him_ _ inscrutably _ _, and swallow._

_~Sirius~_

_What have I done now? I'm running out of ideas how to make him feel comfortable. Just a moment, he says he wants to get out and do something. Does he really want to go to the Christmas market?_

“Kreacher has sent me a shopping list a week ago. I think we have everything we need for the party. A few missing things will be delivered tomorrow morning, the tree for example... Unless Kreacher accidentally,” _I give the elf a questioning look._ “forgot something?” _Kreacher looks a little bit guilty, only a little bit; he senses that I am not angry. I've expected a certain amount of sabotage, depending on how precise Harry's orders have been._

“We are a bit short of some ingredients. Kreacher hasn't been preparing such a dinner for a very long time.” _The slight reproach can't be missed, Kreacher is stepping from one foot to the other._

“Master Sirius doesn't know all the good things Kreacher uses for his biscuits. Shall Kreacher make something of all the marzipan master Sirius has bought?”

~Severus~

 _I look away, and stare at a chair leg. Sirius has remembered. Suddenly I have a feeling that there are a dozen feathers in my throat. I compose my face and look back with all due inscrutability, but he is looking away. Not mere coincidence, I am sure. I mutter_ “the astounding mongrel” _under my breath and I am sure he hears me even if he won't respond._

~Sirius~

_I resist the temptation to look at Severus' face. If he has noticed that I paid attention to his Christmas memories, he won't like to be caught at being pleased. I simply nod at Kreacher and he continues._

“There are only a few of the cutters left, since....” _He stops abruptly, not knowing how to go on without speaking ill of his master._

“.... since I smashed most of them.” _I finish his sentence._ “Do you think Muggle-made ones will suffice? It was only your magic which made them move? Not anything built-in, was it?”

“Kreacher doesn't need wizards' magic to make them dance. Bring whatever you like, Master.” _House elves' pride. Then he turns to Severus._ “The master's wine cellar is well-stocked and contains only the best.” _Say it, Sev! The elf is even a worse arrogant prat than his master. Kreacher has raised us._

_~Severus~_

_I stop looking at Sirius' eyes, and into them. I should not use my mildest form of Legilimency again. I felt and saw that thought. I am tempted to give myself away by mentioning how incredibly arrogant Sirius and Regulus' two and a half feet tall father figure is. I am too stunned by the personal term, “Sev.” I keep my emotion where it is best: well hidden._

_~Sirius~_

“What a pity that my father has never told anyone where he kept the key.” _Why am I not surprised that the elf smiles and triumphantly produces a large bronze key with the unavoidable snake-shaped handle? It's the last proof that I now have Kreacher's full and undivided loyalty. I may need it. There's a nasty suspicion I can't get out of my head since Harry has agreed to lend me the elf. I keep telling myself I'm paranoid; Harry won't do that to me, won't he? Severus is watching me. I envy him for his skill to hide his emotions. I'd rather not discuss it. It doesn't matter anymore. Kreacher won't betray us. I get a hold of myself and take a hearty bite from my sandwich. We finish the meal in silence. Kreacher hands me his shopping list additions. Could have been worse._

_~Severus~_

"And now, we are off to... _” I ask questioningly, I cannot wait to be rid of the memories of the House of Black Grimmauld Place poses. I find it claustrophobic even though I grew up in the equivalent of a cell padded with books and rotting floorboards. This is better, at least there is someone here who deserves a modicum of respect He was trapped here for years. I think of werewolves and scowl. He deserved it._

_I wonder if there is any Muggle clothing about, even though I am a walking Muggle Repelling Charm. I don't wish to draw attention to myself, to us. Sirius grins that grin that always meant imminent attack at school, but which I am now reading as merely having fun. Fun. Pfft._

_~Sirius~_

“It's off to the Christmas market and the deli next.” _Severus moves at once. He seems to be more eager than me to get out. When I simply grab my coat, he looks down his robes questioningly. I shake my head, grinning._

“Just take your coat. No need to change into Muggle clothes. This is London. Two men in long, black coats won't raise any attention whatsoever. We'll pass off as what they call goths, just as easy as Regulus and I with our frilled shirts passed off as hippie kids when we sneaked out.” _Well, it took a knocked-out tooth and a black eye to make them understand we were_ _ **not girls**_ _._

_~Severus~_

_I smirk at his mention of goths. “_ Goths. My hair certainly helps that impression” _I am still smirking as I say this. As I put on my mid-length cloak I see what he means. If anyone is idiotic enough to pick a fight, Sirius would make a short fight of it before I could draw my wand, I remember Regulus telling me about how good Sirius was at roughhousing and how I lacked the physical ability. I snort aloud as we step onto the pavement and Grimmauld Place locks itself behind us, both interlopers in the old family ways._


	39. Sirius/Severus: A Trip to the Christmas Market

_~Sirius~_

_We walk side by side through the streets of Muggle London. We don't talk. In the past, even that seemed impossible. Remus told me that the twins took bets before Order meetings how many minutes it would take until we started to insult each other, extra bonus for having it right who'd reach for his wand first. He tried to provoke me by pointing out the childishness of our behaviour, but I only demanded my 10% from the winning bets on me. He gave up as usual. We never really hexed each other anyway, not willing to face Dumbledore's anger._

___The deli first. I put Kreacher's shopping list on the counter. Severus takes a look and starts a discussion with the shopkeeper about the exact specification and origin of certain items._

 __“.... only vanilla planifolia from Madagascar and Syzygium aromaticum from the Maluku Islands are acceptable.…..”

_I stop listening, no idea what he's talking about. Food not potions. It takes ages before he's satisfied. The man locks the door behind us, pale and sweating. Severus shopping for herbs and spices falls under Arthur's Muggle Protection Act._

_The Christmas market looks like a magic place. It reminds me of Hogsmeade on the last weekend before the holidays, small wooden shops with thatched roofs decorated with fairy lights which almost look real. An overwhelming smell of candy floss, burned almonds, crystallised fruit and roast pork is in the air. Some of the shopkeepers wear a kind of medieval costumes. I grin at Severus. Told you we won't look odd at all._

_A stall with wooden toys catches my eye. Along one side all sorts of beautiful hand-carved puppets dangle from the roof. Dragons with moveable wings, little princesses in pink lace dresses, old hags with pointed hats on tiny broomsticks. I point at an ugly one in a patched grey robe and a long black cloak._

“Exactly like my mum, don't you agree?”

_The largest and most beautiful puppets are the wizards. One is three feet tall, long white hair and beard, his painted, intensely blue eyes seem to twinkle through the rimless half-moon spectacles. He is wearing a matching blue robe with golden runes at the edges. His hand holding a wand moves helplessly up and down when the strings twist and turn. I can't resist the temptation. To pull the strings on Dumbledore is too good to be missed. I also take a dragon for Teddy and a tiny little princess for Victoire. I know they're too young, but who cares?_

_Severus frowns. Alright, I'm acting childish, so what? Can't you do anything just for the fun of it? To spite him I turn to another stall, Christmas pyramids. Three or four levels with tiny wooden figures going round and round, farmers and shepherds with tools and cattle on the lowest level, a marching band in strange uniforms on the second. They carry hammers, chisels and tiny, little lanterns on their belts, no weapons. I ask the shopkeeper what kind of soldiers they are. She answers that they are miners from the mountains of South-Eastern Germany. In the past, those miners earned some extra pennies by making all these wooden toys. I can understand that men who spent so much time underground in everlasting darkness want to create such a world of simple beauty and bright colours._

_On the top levels there are child angels with harps, shawms and trumpets and a heavenly choir. I buy a four level pyramid and put it into my magic rucksack. Severus mutters something under his breath. “Bah, humbug.” I don't believe him. _

“Aren't we supposed to look for biscuit cutters?”

 __“Sure, but that doesn't mean I can't get some last minute presents, does it?”

 __“May I ask you who will be the lucky one to enjoy this?”

“Arthur Weasley, of course. He will be delighted to figure out how Muggles make it move without magic. Are you afraid that I get you a toy, too? Don't worry, you'll get a self-scrubbing cauldron. Or would you rather have **'** **103 ways to scare helpless students'**?”

_He glares at me in a way that could scare 103 helpless students. Goodness grace, he can't really believe I bought a self-scrubbing cauldron? Actually, I haven't bought anything. His present is something money can't buy._

“Haven't Potter and Weasley told you that I prefer to employ unruly Gryffindors to clean the school cauldrons? And concerning the book, I'm afraid I wrote it.”

_I can't stop myself to burst out in laughter. Is that a joke again? Two in a day? Severus, be careful, I might think you're funny. Not a muscle moves in his face. How does he manage to look dead serious while saying things like that? The image of him practising his inscrutable expression in front of a mirror flashes through my mind and causes another fit of laughter._

_When I stop for a second to catch breath, Severus utters:_ __ “Finished, mutt? Or would you rather move over to that patch of grass to roll on your back?”

_I suppress the urge to bark in response and pull myself together instead. My mouth's still twitching._

__“Thanks for the offer. I don't think that's necessary. Have you spotted a shop with kitchenware?”

 __“Fifth one on the left, second row.”

 __“Great. Now come on, what are you waiting for?”

_The stall has everything we can wish for. Little metal frames in animal shape, angels, a Father Christmas like the one I destroyed, a sledge with reindeer. Salt dough figures made with those cutters are on display to show how they look decorated._

“Alright, Kreacher said a few of the old ones are left. This should mean the hippogriff, the horse, the duck and the greyhound. So which do we take to fill the ranks? Father Christmas and the reindeer are a must. I think we skip another hare. “

 __I pick a sheep, cow, ox and a donkey, consider a cat, but that's almost as bad as a hare. There's an impressive stag and a small doe. I hesitate.

_~Severus~_

_The lights around us twinkle but my stomach feels twisted and my hands are cold. I silently conjure gloves with a subtle spell that I can use in the proximity of Muggles. I put on the gloves. No one noticed but I have been watching Sirius._

_Sirius seems to have paused on the point of picking up the doe, but even with the pain of discovery when it comes to the doe I growl at him more effectively than he can growl in Animagus form. He looks at me with small defiance and smiles slightly. If I had that expression, he'd call it a sneer._

_He picks up the buck. I have to face it as if I care, that I will never be James Potter to him, or on James' level. I'm not a knuckle-headed Gryffindor and he has to rub it in. I feel like thanking him for the compliment with a hex. His outstretched hand pauses at the doe._

“Keep him and be done with it, but leave her alone.” __

_The nearly happy shopping trip has turned into a minor battle. Sirius shakes his head and touches the doe. Then very gently he withdraws his hand, clutching the stag, a very forceful looking stag which reminds me of thinking Potter had tricked Lily into togetherness._

“Thought I'd give you a heart attack, Severus!” _he grinned._ “Knew you'd be looking...”

“Flea-bitten...” _My words are coming out almost incoherent._

“Your **toying** reminds me of another Black who likes to play games with people. Bellatrix. Long dead, but the similarity is striking.”

_I sneer, and my shoulders are hunched against my will. I give him a look of intense dislike._

“Let's buy the wretched biscuit cutters. And your infernal stag to go with your Gryffindor collection.”  
__

_Sirius is seething and muttering and he picks up the doe. He pays the operator of the stand for the cutters he chose, reindeer to deer, and we walk in suffocating silence until we reach Grimmauld Place. I can tell he wants to “deal with me later” and I am as nervous as nothing. It doesn't bother me, but the cutting remark about the cutters and his cousin is what made him buy the doe, I am sure of it._  
__

_Kreacher greets us as we come indoors._

“Masters must take shoes off please when entering the house,” _he croaks. He looks at me with tremulous eyes. Whatever Sirius has told him about me is probably correct._


	40. Sirius: Setback

_~Sirius~_

“Don't tell me what to do!”

I don't like the way the elf is staring at Sn- Severus. I drop my coat on top of Kreacher and send my boots flying through the hall. I'd rather have thrown them at Severus to knock a bit of normal human understanding into his stubborn, ingenious skull.

Kreacher is trembling. I feel sorry immediately. There's no reason to shout at Kreacher because that git at my side who is slowly getting out off his coat and hands it neatly folded to the shivering elf, still wants to get everything wrong. Was it so hard to get that I tried to be considerate towards his feelings? Bellatrix' games! Thank you very much.

I don't want those cutters! There will be no fun in seeing them strut over the kitchen table. I have to get rid of them as soon as possible.

I don't want James back! …. I really don't. James had tried to hex me into oblivion for what I am doing. Tried to...not necessarily succeeded. I know that my face probably confirms the worst Severus thinks of me. I can't help it if he wants to misunderstand and doesn't give me the chance to explain.

Got to make amends to Kreacher who has put away the coats and retrieved the boots.

 

“Where shall I put the shopping, Kreacher?” I say in a very soft voice. “Is everything to your wishes?” Kreacher seems confused for a second but gets the point. House elves are sometimes cleverer than certain wizards.

“Kreacher, is there a chance that you saved more than the few cutters from the old Christmas stuff? Ornaments and tinsel?”

 

Kreacher smiles happily again.

 

“Kreacher's already got it from the attic. Everything is still there. Kreacher wouldn't let them throw it away.”

 

“Brilliant. Are you going to help me, Severus?”

 

Sev is still in a bad mood. He glares at me, at Kreacher, who cares? Things would be easier if I had not grown fond of the bastard over the last few months and even more in the last few hours. It was stupid to hope we could be friends. I will never be Regulus to him.

 

“Pardon me, Professor. I forgot that such childish entertainment is below you. Why don't retreat to the drawing room? You may find the house's library offers much to your special taste.... and your saturnine look won't spoil our fun.”

 

I turn to the kitchen, signal Kreacher to follow and slam the door shut behind us.

I sink onto a chair and rest my head in my hands. I'm tired. Tired of trying to make him understand. Kreacher brings a cup of steaming hot tea. I should send him with another one to Severus, but I'm tired of begging. I sent Kreacher nonetheless, not sure whether I do it, because I think Severus will welcome something warm as much as I do or because I'm simply not willing to admit defeat.


	41. Severus/Sirius: Daring Truth

_~Severus~_

_I climb to the first landing, where the sitting room is. It is comfortable enough and will be more so if I use **Incendio** to light a fire, but I don't want to feel welcome except ... Regulus. I know I made a mistake about the cutters, but his hand brushing the doe nearly made me see red, and not red hair._

_Sirius would have left those two items behind, but angst and sarcasm and paranoia seem to be all I have left. I decide to dare him with something, something so honest it will likely cut both of us, and take some time to repair. I would have waited until after the party when there was nothing pressing, but I have to do this now._

_I sit down on a French Provincial style couch, and my Burmese Alexi joins me, slinking her way over to my legs. I sit and stare at the cat, and lean back on the couch. I pet Alexi all the while downstairs, then upstairs, the sound of a seething, frenzied decorator finds my ears. This must be the only part of the house Sirius is leaving alone; I beg he does not have the intention of decorating Regulus' room._

_If there were a really good, scientific way to slip him the Veritas... no I think just asking him outright would be better for my reputation and his fractured ego if he were to dare to take it._

_Sirius seems to care that I have shot our tender young friendship in the kneecaps. I do too, though I don't know how to find my way back, and I am grateful my cat never takes offence at my venom, and just continues to curl around my ankles and attempt to steal the meat from my place if I let her. If people knew when to back off...If I knew when to back off..._

_This is not a time to back off._

_I pet Alexi from nose to tail tip. My eyes feel alight with that strange bird, adventure in honesty. I will field questions from him myself - without the Veritaserum I know. There is thumping on my landing, and Sirius stumps into the room from the hallway._

_~Sirius~_

_We've finished decorating the hall and some part of the dining room, silver and green from Kreacher's secret trunk mixed with the occasional red which even my mother could not avoid as the traditional colour of the season. The tinsel snakes move slightly, glittering and softly hissing. Regulus believed that they were telling each other tales of all the past Christmases they've seen. I'm still at loss with Severus. With our last letters I had thought he understood and though perhaps not fully agreed to friendship, at least was willing to give me a chance. Damned cutters, they lie crushed at the bottom of the bin. The desire to talk about the really important things is burning in my mind. It would make things so much easier for tomorrow, if he knew. I've never expected him to make it easy for me, too much has happened between us. Does he understand that I don't want it to be easy? If he'd just give me a hint what he expects, what he wants to happen. The tiniest hint would do. Why has he accepted my invitation anyway?_

_Trapped by my own cunning. I have used my brother to lure him into the correspondence and finally to get him here. Now it looks that his help in bringing home Regulus is all I can expect. But why has he offered me the job? For the petty revenge to be my superior at last, my headmaster? He should know that I don't make a good slave._

_I walk up to the fireplace and light it. The drawing room immediately becomes cosy; fire crackling. I love to stand in front of it feeling the heat, as close as possible without getting burned. Will the Azkaban cold ever go away? A lasting passion for watching fires is a rather mild after effect. In the first months I got burned, gave in to the urge to touch, almost embrace the flames. Those times are long gone. Remus was always a bit nervous, when he came around to find me staring at the fire. He counted the tiny burn holes in my sleeves and pushed the armchair back, if I let him. Oh no, he didn't believe I would jump in. Just taking care that nothing too horrible happened, should I stumble over an empty bottle. Severus looks nervous, too. He's probably worried to be accused to have pushed me. It's the right time for a drink, isn't it? Since Kreacher has brought out some of my father's treasures, we should pay it due attention. Liquid courage, before my nerves are getting the better of me again_

_~Severus~_

"A drink?" _Sirius asks._ “and a talk?”

“Precisely.”

_I wave my wand and a 16oz bottle of Spanish brandy flies into my outstretched hand. I pour Sirius a healthy measure. I have not yet found a reason alcohol and Veritaserum would interact, except slower, louder speech and loss of motor control. Typical idiocy. And a talk. I take the small phial the size of Lily's fingernail polish and show him the water-like substance within._

_“Three drops of Veritaserum is all that is required. Three hours of honesty. I, of course, will take no such thing.”_

_“Who'd expect you to,” _Sirius' eyes narrow._ “Why offer the truth? Aren't you comfortable with with your stack of lies?”_

_“I decide what is honest by my own system of values. The Gryffindor way is much more straightforward.” _I look at the clear glass, and I feel like snarling, “Take it you coward,” but I am interrupted by Sirius with his lukewarm brandy.__

_I debate whether to give him his Christmas present._

_He snatches the bottle up and says,_ “A perfect solution,” _shaking his shaggy head at what I suppose he thinks is resourceful ingenuity._

 _Perhaps ... not. I hold the phial and say,_ “If you were the type of Bellatrix, I would not offer Veritaserum. Perhaps a curse or two of my own invention. I was wrong in that particular assumption.”

_There, as close to grovelling as I get with anyone. Begging is for those without control.I smirk and hold the phial, stoppered and sealed. It glints nothingness. I love its deception. I hold it for long enough to know I offer but will not force or trick him into drinking it. They may be biscuit cutters but they had meaning, Or perhaps my own meaning, which is so often at odds with the world around me._

~Sirius~

_Veritaserum! Simply holding the phial, smirking, taunting, daring me to take it. He could at least have been the sneaky Slytherin he's supposed to be and secretly slip it into my drink. That way I could have cursed him afterwards._

“You say you want to tell the truth. This makes it easier.”

_Stop smirking! I'll tell the truth anyway...I will... so there's the problem? I let him access my mind, why am I hesitating now? His face is not emotionless, curious, black eyes glittering. Does he think I'll back out? That I'm afraid to be taken by my word? I hold out my glass lazily ...trying to. I've got nothing to hide, nothing I'm not willing to do._

“Three little drops. I'm brave enough to speak the truth. Are you brave enough to hear it?”

_A tiny flicker in his eyes. Who's daring whom? I can smirk, too. He slowly opens the phial. We're both staring at the phial and the glass. Hold it steady; don't show nerves. One, two, three._

“Cheers!” _I down it in one go._

“Now, start asking your questions. Whatever it's good for.”

“Reckless and impatient as always, aren't you? It takes a minute to take hold. So eager to spill your dirty little secrets?”

“If it's dirty little secrets you're after, you will be disappointed. My love life was less exciting than school rumours had it.” _Have I really said that? Is the potion already working? I can't tell. This isn't anything I have tried to keep secret. It certainly wasn't me who spread the rumours._

Severus looks slightly amused. He takes his time to start the real thing.

“Why?”  
_He has asked that before when he flooed in this morning.He's not referring to my love life._

“I guess you've got to be more precise with your questions. It's a truth potion, Sev, not the key to the essential wisdom of the universe.”

“Why...did...you...try...to...kill...me...at...school? Are monosyllable words simplistic enough for your dense dog's brain to understand?”

“That again.” _I sigh_. “I... did... not...try...to...kill...you! I wanted your big nose off our tracks; that's all. Stop looking so incredulous. Trust your own potion; I cannot lie.”

~Severus~

"My nose off your tracks. As if you ever let me alone. You and Potter never let go a chance to ambush me from our 1st year. Why did you, Potter and to some extent Pettigrew, the sycophant make life miserable for me through constant attacks, sometimes with reason but often without? There seems little reason. You didn't bother any Slytherin as much as myself, there must be a reason.”

"Of course there were reasons. We believed them to be good ones in those times. Many reasons, different from time to time and from person to person.

At our first encounter on the train, we were just cocky, before somebody else got the better of us. James grew up hating the Dark Arts without knowing them and to him, Dark and Slytherin were the same. He made that pretty clear. Do you remember what he said when I mentioned my family has been traditionally in Slytherin?

If I wanted his friendship, I had to share his opinion and I wanted him really badly. Not that I had any reasons to be fond of the Slytherins I grew up with. “

"And here I thought you were all right. I remember. What brave weakness to fall in line with him with a rebellious yell. Yes, I remember, very well.”

"In the following weeks and increasingly over the next years you became sort of Slytherin poster boy of our year. Damn, the way you looked, the way you moved,”

"Moved?”

"Moved, spoke and tried to fight back was like you had a sign on your back “Kick me I'm a Dark Wizard”. James and I truly believed that kicking Slytherin – Dark Wizards' asses was what brave, chivalrous Gryffindors were supposed to do. I needed to prove that I was a true Gryffindor. Just in case you haven't noticed Gryffindors aren't very welcoming towards suspicious individuals.”

"I just might have noticed it both as student and faculty.”

"I certainly counted among very suspicious. To the older students, I was the Black Gryffindor, Bellatrix' cousin. Some found it very amusing to do what they called ' _make me feel at home'._ Minerva was always so pleased how quickly we learned Vanishing spells in 4 th year. We had enough practice in 1st year with all the snakes, dead and alive that appeared in my bed and trunk. “

_Sirius tries to laugh, but the potion doesn't allow it. It wasn't funny._

“How deeply tragic and highly amusing. That situation fits none of those descriptions. You must already be aware from our letters that I did not make my house's ideal until fifth year. A number of people in my own house thought me a blood traitor. At least I didn't get lion cubs in my bed. So I was an ideal target. Why not fully attack the others?”

"We did bother other Slytherins and a few idiots from other houses, but you were the most gratifying target in so many ways. Mulciber and Avery were nasty little buggers, but they were no match for us. They bullied Muggle-borns and Hufflepuffs and we punished them, no challenge, no fun. You, however, fought back and sometimes won. You sent us to the hospital wing a couple of times with curses Poppy had difficulties to identify. I enjoy a good practical joke or a fair duel. I never wanted anyone to get really hurt or humiliated.”

"Why do I have a hard time believing this is not a lie? But it is not.” _I sigh, and gesture Sirius to continue._

"To me, it just felt good to fight you, better than anything else. Someone who doesn't give in.... an equal.”

"An equal. I don't think much of your wand and egalitarianism,” _I mock. Sirius waves an impatient hand and I actually think I had better listen._

“There was something about you I couldn't quite get, you usually played fair, when we did. It all got out off hands in 5th year, when James fell for Lily. I do feel ashamed about many things we did to you. I didn't even really hate you, before that night in May.”

“We'll be getting to that moment.”

“I simply stood by James' side, because he was my friend. I should have stopped him. What he did was wrong, but then he was so much in love with Lily and knowing she was with you of all people drove him mad. And you were fighting for the same price, weren't you? It was as serious for you as it was for him.”

"I was fighting, and it was serious, and I thought you were complicit with his every move. You were friends in a way I never knew, preferring to keep others at arms distance – except Lily. And even early on I had suspicions about her. But she embodied everything positive in my life. Of course, I fought. After she defected, I was driven frantic with her dishonour. You see why I find it so hard to trust?”

"I can see that. I've learned my lesson about blind trust, though not having anyone to confide in seems much harder.”

“Hmph. Blind trust is worse. No one can every fulfil my expectations as a confidante, so I can ignore it utterly.” _I say._

“Anyway though I didn't like the turn it took, I didn't do anything about it. To me, all that fuss about a girl was just stupid. James was sulking or bad tempered; Remus selflessly suffered.”

"Another one who suffered because of His Holiness James Potter.”

“It wasn't like that. If he felt that Remus or Lily were serious, James wouldn't have interfered....no, he wouldn't ...!? Remus was just not happy how things worked out..., but he knew deep inside that Lily didn't return his feelings. They were only friends and that was more important to him.”

~Sirius~

"My own attitude towards you only changed, because you dragged him into it. Were you jealous of his friendship with Lily or just worried that he was a danger to her? You had every right to hate me for what I'd done and good reason to hate James, but the way you looked at Remus after my stupid trick, shocked me. He was innocent!”

"What makes you so convinced that I hated Lupin, the least vile and least likely to attack of you four? What made you think I knew his intentions? I found him timid and lackadaisical, he certainly ran into my contempt. Up to Third year I pretended he didn't exist, and after the incident that was obviously sharpened. Not once did I attack him without provocation – meaning, that I never once cursed, hexed or jinxed Lupin after that incident. Not out of fear. I just tried to warn my fellow Slytherins that there was a werewolf on the loose. No less than practical if you take into account what I saw that night.

Yes, we're here. Why tell me how to get into the Willow armed with a hint at my obsession with his werewolf nature? I had to go down, and you never expected me to come to harm?”

"I expected you to get scared. It wasn't a well-thought-out plan. Let me explain right from the beginning. “

_It made perfect sense back then and now it makes none at all._

“We only had managed the Animagus transformations recently and spent a few nights with Moony. He suffered horribly from his transformations back then, but with us keeping him company they became so much easier. I don't deny that we also enjoyed the thrill of adventure and pride to have achieved such advanced magic. When Lily warned Remus that someone had seen Madam Pomfrey take him to the willow's entrance, ...she didn't say it was you, but that wasn't hard to figure out... he told us and insisted that we stay away from him at full moon. To think that he had to suffer again just because you were spying on us... “

 _Severus clears his throat._ “I merely didn't wish other students to suffer – and I admit to jealousy. He had done something with Lily long ago that made me feel loathing for him ever since.”

_I have no idea what he means. But I remember that James thought the same._

“Lily was the reason why James mistrusted Remus in the end. Lily and the fact that he like you had seen him as a mindless werewolf. I never had, before Peter escaped from Hogwarts.” _I whisper almost inaudibly. James' jealousy and Remus' problems are not anything I want to discuss with him now. The Marauders are dead. They died with James. I hurry to talk on about things that are Severus' concern._

“Spying on James and me, Remus had no active part in our feud, made us very angry. We wanted to go anyway, but Remus was adamant that the danger of being exposed as unregistered Animagi was too great a risk. He was really worried that we get in trouble, as if... The worst thing which could have happened to James and me was that our parents paid the fine and had us registered. There was no way to persuade Remus to take chances. At last, he threatened to go to Dumbledore if we didn't swear to stay put. You see I had to put an end to your sneaking.”

“It was for a good cause, but I didn't hate Lupin, I wanted him out of my way. I didn't mind him at Hogwarts as much as ... earlier. You sensed a threat. You figured out that for me to be killed and no harm done with your amusing joke was the best way to do that?”

“Amusing was Remus' wording, not mine. His way to deal with uncomfortable memories. Whitewash as much as possible and deny the rest. We didn't tell him that he tried to attack you and James. He couldn't have faced that truth.”

“Why? There were plenty of close calls, and you found them 'funny'. Near misses, and you were intoxicated by lawlessness.”

“Actually we had not started our adventures in the forest when I told you how to enter the tunnel, so those near misses had not happened, yet. I saw Moony as a fellow canine and here was my fundamental error. His desire to hunt, a werewolf's desire is different to what Padfoot feels when he sees a hare, a rabbit or another small animal running. Padfoot can decide, a werewolf can't. When a werewolf sees and smells a human in close proximity, he attacks. With us, he was much more a normal wolf, an animal among animals, a member of a pack. Real wolves aren't a danger to humans. Prongs and Padfoot were pretty much in control of the wolf on our trips. The close calls weren't that close, but you remember that Remus felt guilty about them all the same. He suffered horribly later after he attacked all of us the evening Peter escaped. If he had known that he nearly had bitten James and you, he had probably left Hogwarts the next day. Dumbledore demanded that we kept it quiet and of course, we did.

My plan was very simple. You would sneak down the tunnel, see the werewolf, get scared and Filch who received intelligence that students would be out of bed that night would catch you. I trusted Dumbledore to deal with you to protect Remus.”

Severus snorts with disbelief and scorn.

“It was my trust in Dumbledore's magic and wisdom that nearly got you killed.”

“Perfect Dumbledore, the biggest perpetrator of them all.”

I shrug in helpless agreement.

“It didn't occur to me that the room in the Shack was not safe, that the door was not spelled to hold against breaking. I still don't get what he thought of, keeping a full-grown werewolf behind a thin wooden door and a frail Muggle lock. Worst of all, though we were very relieved about it, he didn't put magic enforcements in place after that night. It was still only a locked door which we passed easily in the following years.”

“That you didn't check is a testament to your dunderheadedness, and of course Dumbledore..”

“I know it doesn't mean anything after all those years, but I understood that what I did was abysmally stupid and I wanted to apologise to you... at first. “

“At first,” _He says mockingly._

“Then James explained to me that you only followed my taunt to … do something horrible to Moony because you hated him for being a werewolf, a halfbreed.“

“Halfbreed? I couldn't care less about part humans, even a dangerous one like Lupin. I wanted to make an example of him to anyone else who led Lily away from me, even before Hogwarts. Lily cared for Lupin. I couldn't stand it, but I never attacked Remus. He was decent outside of his fangs and his girlfriend stealing,....”

“That was why James went after you, to protect Moony.”

_Another interrupting snort.Why? James never claimed anything else._

“We thought it outrageous that you later accused me of attempted murder for what was .... an accident when you yourself had sinister intentions that night. What other reason was there for you to act to my taunt? James said you wanted to seriously hurt Moony, maybe even use some Dark curse to kill him. I couldn't believe it at first. Couldn't believe that anyone could do such a horrible thing, but it was the only explanation and Dumbledore obviously believed it, too. “

“Of course, dear Dumbledore inferred it, it must be holy writ. He paid too little attention to my predicament – perhaps the 'kick me I'm a Dark wizard' stance?” _Severus has every right to be ironic._

“Why else would he let me get away so lightly? Only a few detentions, no letter to my parents. For goodness grace, my stupidity could have seriously harmed or even killed three of my classmates and they handled it like hexing in the corridors. Strictly spoken I was only punished for exposing Remus. What nearly happened to you didn't seem to matter.”  
“Who cares what happens to Severus Snake, loathed my many and loved by few?”  
_My reply to this outburst is a bitter laugh._  
“Dumbledore didn't care for anyone! Very briefly we considered that Dumbledore might have gotten in trouble with the Ministry if they found out he kept a werewolf in school. My parents would have gone frantic for sure and they did have some influence. On the other hand, he was Dumbledore! He wasn't afraid of anyone, was he? If he thought you were innocent, he'd seen to justice. We... I couldn't believe that he wouldn't care for a student's life. I was pretty naïve, wasn't I?”  
“Quite. Which leads me to my indigestion. Your vehement decoration of the house in silver and green with red touches. Listening to your family and the house you should have been at long last? Is this a gesture to the Slytherin family, and you invite reckless roarers and expect them to mingle with cunning snakes? Your overlarge cats are the drama queens, not the serpents.”

“I've already told you in my letters, Christmas like Regulus loved it. Nobody can say I haven't warned them. The invitation said **re-instated annual** Christmas party. At least Molly and Arthur should remember what Christmas at Grimmauld Place once meant. Molly's uncle Ignatius Prewett was a regular guest.”

“I know the reason behind the party, I am just concerned for the guests...or rather, the Slytherin guests.” _A shrewd smile crosses his face. It's a shrewd smile, but it's still a smile._

“Don't worry about Narcissa and Draco. They are safe. I think I got through to Harry that they are invited as a surprise for Andromeda and to be treated decently. I don't expect Gryffindors and Slytherins to suddenly get along. I'd be contend; if they accept that my family is my family and I make my own choices about people I like to spend time with.

I planned to give this party for some time. Since the wonderful birthday, Harry arranged for me at the Burrow. For some reason, they don't seem to understand that I'm 41, not 16. They really took an effort to make it a 70s disco party plus Weasley weirdness. Should I ever meet one of the last remaining Dementors again, I'll probably feel attacked by balloons, streamers and a glittering disco ball and hear a choir of eunuchs scream 'Staying Alive'. “

_Don't you dare to laugh! It was dreadful. They meant well and I kept a smiling face. How can they say they like me when they have no idea who I am?_

“I'm not anybody's lapdog! I'm not playing the court jester! If they want old schoolboy pranks retold, again and again, they should ask Lee Jordan to draw a sketch and charm it to tell stupid stories. I'm not available!”

_I shouldn't shout like that. I shouldn't show him how desperate I am, how lonely._

“Most important asking questions and not accepting half-truths which contradict facts and common sense are not signs of madness and cannot be cured with good food and sleep. It's what most intelligent adults call reasonable thinking and I like that I'm able to do that. I don't want to sink back into the state they call sanity. I want them to understand that my brother acted like a good Slytherin. It's an insult to Regulus' memory to say he was brave enough to be a Gryffindor.”

“About time you took yourself in hand, about time someone took this family back in hand, and by that I mean those on the tapestry.” _Severus lips are lopsided._ “Which requires, to borrow and mangle your words, Gryffindor cunning and Slytherin bravery.”

“About time? I've been preoccupied with bare survival for most of the last 19 years. Since my return, I gathered information to check and double-check my assumptions.

The drama at the party will happen between me and the other Gryffindors. Think of yourself as the guest of honour to the show. I guess you can dodge occasional stray curses and endure a bit of roaring. They obviously need bangs and fireworks to get the message through. They are going to get it. Andromeda knows what I'm up to. She understands my reasons, though she's obviously a bit worried that Harry won't.”

_I'm scared about that, too. Scared to hurt them, to hurt Harry. I just can't carry on like that, pretending..._

“He has this idea that I should be the guy again who smiled and waved on Mad-Eye's photograph of the first Order. I'm a living human being, not a happy memory. He fears I'm drinking again like I did, when Dumbledore imprisoned me in this house. I drank to drown the doubts I already had. It didn't really work. Has Dumbledore ever told you how and why the mess with the Secret Keeper change happened?

Oh, and now we're at it, how did you manage to escape from the Hogshead after the prophecy? Dumbledore never really explained it to Harry and Sybill Trelawney's version doesn't make much sense. How did you get out of the room confronted by Dumbledore and his brother Aberforth behind you blocking the door? One might think he let you go.... to report the prophecy.”

_I don't know which I would prefer, to be right in my assumptions or to be wrong?_

~Severus~

“Dumbledore told me almost nothing of it until after the Potters met their fate that late October's end. He told me later because he was not secure that the Dark Lord would not try to weasel information out of me by some means I could not withstand; I was told to trust Lily's safety to him and those he trusted.

You and I were given options to trust him and yes we were naïve, all of us taken in by the intellect and damnable twinkling eyes and general deceptiveness. He told me later that he was to be Secret Keeper, and he thought you were the spy; he said later that you didn't trust Remus. I heard that tale for myself in the Willow with Pott---Harry. James insisted on using you and Lily cast the Fidelius Charm and you became Secret Keeper. The spy had to be a Marauder to keep the Dark Lord informed of your whereabouts. You were afraid Remus was Imperiused. Dumbledore was convinced you would turn at any moment. Dumbledore got you to write down the secret. James Potter asked you why to tell Remus, he would be a Secret Keeper if you died. But everyone could assume the little nothing of a man like a rat would escape the notice of the powerful and the Secret was transferred to Pettigrew. This is the hazy, vague understanding I have of these events and if you can clarify my summary and tell me if I am correct in the essentials.”

"As to what happened when I heard the prophecy...well, I can certainly tell you that though you'll be disappointed by lack of cunning both on my and Dumbledore's part, I'm afraid. A tale I'll tell in the manner of a tale shall I?

The fact that Albus Dumbledore and Aberforth let me off so lightly gives me joy in apportioning them at least a small bit of blame. They should have realised they weren't dealing with some mouse, but a dangerous and powerful wizard, and one proud to be a Death Eater. Someone not to play mind games with. I was not prepared to hear a prophecy or part of one, Their conversation had been mind-numbingly tedious, and I made a mental note that Albus Dumbledore would take leave of her soon so I could file my report. A useless waste of half hour at a keyhole in the Hog's Head passageway, I thought.

  
But Sybill Trelawney's voice changed abruptly. The door was wooden and I stared at the knots in it, the patterns nature had made in the wood almost memorised in the past ten, twenty, thirty minutes of tedium. But then suddenly it was just a door, and I was just an observant guest at the Hog's Head. Trelawney's voice was guttural, harsh. Unknown, likely a bad omen of some kind. Part of me was scornful. I scarcely paid notice to Divination. She almost gurgled her words, not dreamy or ethereal in the slightest. **“** _ **The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches...born to those who have thrice defied..**_ ”Guttural gasping. “ _ **Born as the seventh month dies**_ **...** ”

I concentrated on the keyhole, a dark tarnished silver, filthy as one would expect of Aberforth's establishment. Seized suddenly from behind, I flailed in Aberforth's arms. I wrenched myself out of the barman's grip. We're both thin, and he's older, so we were an even match – until Aberforth snarled, “ _ **Incarcerous**_ ” and I was bound. The scuffling had been noticed. Trelawney's narrow face with its ridiculous spectacles peered at me as did both Dumbledores. Aberforth made to chuck me from the building, but his brother said, “No, wait. We can't let him go just yet.” “What, you want me to give him lodgings in the goat shed?” Aberforth said with amusement.Albus Dumbledore stared at me, pulled out his wand and aimed it at me, while I struggled against my bonds, my wand tightly bound in its pocket.

“ _ **Imperio,**_ ” Albus said to my relief. I had no small talent in resisting the Imperius Curse, and I certainly played the dunderhead and did not let him sense this. I used silent Occlumency, not needing to resort to a wand. I sensed the older Dumbledore in my mind, telling me what to forget. I sensed Aberforth attacking at the same time, trying to cast an enduring _**Silencio**_ **,** and I suppressed a snort at this pathetic magic. I wish now and forever that I had been horrible at Occlumency, and the real memory didn't shine in such good repair in my mind after the Unforgivable. And Aberforth couldn't charm me into silence like one of his precious goats. I sneered in his general direction for trying.“Can we get rid of him yet, Albus?” the filthy barman asked his brother, who nodded gravely. “I hope this is the last time we meet, Severus,” Albus Dumbledore said with finality.Still, I thought...Bind me with invisible ties, and I will overcome them. Use an Unforgivable curse on me, it's what I would have done to you. Underestimate my mind? Folly for all concerned. Aberforth wrenched me down the hallway and down the stone staircase and ejected me from the front door.I was too tricky for Lily's good. I apparated to the Dark Lord's side, my mind open and ringing with what I interpreted as meaning nothing and what the Dark Lord interpreted as meaning everything.

I kick myself and even now I still keep kicking. And now a rhetorical question. Why do you try to befriend me, knowing my history? No one else could understand your position. You see what my position was yet you ask for friendship. You don't overlook. Most overlook without understanding. And now I will close myself again, this is too much for one snake and a teddy bear for one evening, Or is there more? I accept and give more, gladly. But I think we can trust each other. It has taken me a long time to come to that simplistic conclusion.”

~Sirius~

“He tried something to stop you? He really tried?“

_Is he aware of what it means to me that Dumbledore did not manipulate events right from the start? The faint hope that he cared for someone outside his plans. We loved the old man, were ready to die for him and he betrayed us. I don't know, if we had walked to death - he never expected me to survive Azkaban - at his orders willingly. I think we had. He should have given us a choice. Had he seriously done something about the spy, they could have lived, not just James and Lily, but the McKinnons, the Bones and Dearborn. Instead, he played his cunning games with me, feeding me information which Peter who was always present dutifully reported to his master. You brought back the intelligence, proving my guilt._

"Don't get me wrong. I'm not doubting your ability to resist an ordinary Imperius curse, but it's Dumbledore we're talking of. And all he did afterwards was much more taking advantage of Voldemort's knowledge of the prophecy than trying to distract him. Someone _with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord_ must have looked like an answer to his prayers. James and Lily insisted on me to prove my innocence. I refused at first, but Lily talked me into it. We believed what we were told about the charm at school. When the secret keeper dies the secret is buried with him. They'd been safe, even if I failed. We only found out that it works differently when it was too late. I had already signed their death warrant with that note.

Dumbledore has told you more about it than he told anybody else. The others still believe what I said in the shack. We changed to Peter because we thought it was a clever move and a good joke. I would prefer that you stick to that story in public. I have never blamed anyone for suspecting me, neither Remus nor you nor Dumbledore. I certainly can't blame you for reporting the prophecy. You were as blind and deluded as we were. I trust you.“ _I laugh._ „I am an incurably trusting man. But you are right; there have been enough confessions for one evening. I hope there will be more opportunities to get to know each other better without you feeling the need to dilute my drink. 'Any means to reach their ends ' is your house motto. I took a leaf out of your book by drinking Veritaserum, because it seemed the only way to make you believe my words. I won't be doing it again."

I hear Kreacher scurry up and down the stairs for a while. I guess he's got dinner ready. I don't know about you, but I am hungry. It's been hours since the sandwiches.“

 

_~Severus~_

_Sirius nods once. There is a grin on his face that tells me not that he derides me, but is glad that I trust him. I had to take forever and a day to reach this point, and he knows it._

“Nibbles?” _Sirius asks._ “It's been forever since I had simple bangers and mash, and that's what I told Kreacher to prepare. You could do with some food, bone-rack.”

_I give Sirius a look of strange camaraderie. The unexpected warmth takes me by surprise; yet I know I have been planning this look for days. The thing is, I feel it._

“Bone-rack?” _I ask incredulously._

“Regulus' pet name for me as a kid. When else, but as a kid. When else did we have.”

_He gives a bitter laugh and I almost feel like touching his shoulder in friendship. Too much for one snake and a teddy bear for one day is quite correct. I overstretched both of us with this Veritaserum trick. Instead, I watch him leave the room and I follow him downstairs to the kitchen. Kreacher doesn't appear to be here. Then I see that he is underneath the table, screwing silver endings onto the bottom of the table legs. I smirk and Sirius notices and smirks the same way. The man is going to drive me to distraction._

“Decorating, master,” _Kreacher croaks. He speeds to the fire, retrieves the sausages from where they lay and soon a sizzling sound fills the room, and I realise I am hungry. I often forget. Bone-rack is unfair but only somewhat inaccurate. I decide to keep my mouth shut during dinner, as I haven't felt this expansive since...who knows when I might reveal too much. I am always afraid to trust, except in my instincts, and my instincts tell me to trust with caution, not for fear of Sirius, but for exposure of myself._

_Sirius seems reflective as we sit down amongst the green-spangled cloth and silver dinnerware, and I find a new respect growing for his ability to adapt back to his pure-blood Slytherin roots. Perhaps he is mentally preparing for tomorrow, I think he's chewing loudly just to annoy me. That sound, that masticating grind, has always bothered me,_

“I can hear you making obscene noises as you chew all the way from the Slytherin table, Gryffindor.” _I inform him without even an attempt at humour. It works unexpectedly._

“This IS the Slytherin table, I just grace it with my lion-like presence. A joke, Sev? Humour?” _He barks._

“Stop calling me Sev. Severus will do.” I _try to sound tense and annoyed. I do sound tense and annoyed, I have been caught speaking completely without forethought. Yes, I trust him._

 _We eat in silence until Sirius says, ”_  
I'm turning in early. I'm gathering my thoughts...the party. Good night, Sev.”

 __  
I snarl  
  
  
“Severus!”  
  
  
_at his retreating back. Another bark from the friendly mutt. I sit in the kitchen and watch Kreacher follow Sirius and am left in a silence made deeper by the radical changes that have been wrought in one evening, or rather, been exposed in one evening._

  
  


 


	42. Sirius: Night Thoughts

_~Sirius~_

_I sort of ran from the kitchen, any more talk tonight would be too much, for both of us. We need to deal with what was said first. Kreacher has followed me. I sent him back._

“Care for our guest as long as he needs you and follow his orders like you would follow a family member's.”

Kreacher looks mutinous and I wonder again what my mother or Harry... had said about Severus to make Kreacher react like this. I venture to call on the only authority to overrule theirs.

“Master Regulus would have wanted you to care for his friend, don't you think?”

_Kreacher ponders this statement, fighting conflicting loyalties and hesitantly replies:“Yes, Master.”_

_He turns to huddle back to the kitchen. If it only concerned my mother, I would ask him right away, but the way he is watching us makes me feel that there are more recent orders he doesn't know how to deal with. Kreacher's new-found loyalty to me is as fragile as Severus' trust. I need to be cautious._ <

“Wait! When Severus tells you to leave him alone, you will and return to your lair!”

_Caught! Kreacher shudders. I've got to deal with that in the morning, before the party. We can't afford a spy in the house._

_I look out of the window onto the square. It's still raining, but Muggle London is awake. Blurred lights of cars, neon signs and street lights. Blurred... do I see clearly? Do I really know what I'm doing? Not about Severus, I really like him. If James could have heard that thought, he had punched me. We had sworn to hate all things Dark, all things Slytherin and now I have snakes for Christmas. Have I betrayed my dead friends, my house, my beliefs? Am I about to betray my godson? Why does it seem impossible to be a Gryffindor Black? Regulus said I don't need to choose; Father offered compromises. How could they, when we couldn't? How could a Death Eater love a Muggle-born witch, when I didn't even dare to talk to my only brother in front of my friends?_

_What a fine example of Gryffindor courage I am. It took me so long to see, too long perhaps? It's not too late. I can still bring my brother home. I can still try to make it work, not trying to change the world, but trying to stand for what I believe. Hate is not a Gryffindor House trait! I remember those empty words of wisdom I gave to Harry.”The world is not divided into good people and Death Eaters” Right, but not precise. The world is not divided into Gryffindor Order of the Phoenix and bad people._

_Remus told me about the night Severus caught Harry with our map. He laughed because Severus said the map is full of dark magic. I laughed with him, but my laughter was a lie. Severus was right. Did they really believe that we could have twisted and tricked Hogwarts' inner magic to serve our childish purposes with petty spells and neat hocus pocus? Nothing really Dark, but enough to scare some Ministry idiots out of their wits. The secrets of Hogwarts, Black family heirloom, thanks to Phineas. Did Voldemort ever realise that he held the keys to Hogwarts in his hands, when Regulus joined him? My little brother kept the family secrets._

_Secrets? Have I managed to keep the secrets that are not mine to share? I think I have slipped once or twice, but Severus did not press the point. Maybe he didn't notice.... maybe he was … fair. They were my friends, his enemies. Harry is not my enemy, though I am plotting against him. There's still a chance that he will understand and tell me about the cave. My brother is more important to me than a Ministry decree about places related to Voldemort. Harry has no right to make decisions for me, not even when he tries to protect me. I can't blame him. I've done the same, lying and keeping secrets to protect them. It's so easy to start and so difficult to stop. I've been doing it again, ever since I came back. When I noticed that they still believe in the myths of glory, I shut my mouth. I have no right to destroy the myths about the dead, but I can destroy my own. It will hurt him to see me for who I am and who I was. I may lose him, but if I don't I'm no better than Remus, anything to be accepted, to be liked. I should trust Harry to be strong enough and perhaps he will learn to like the real me. I'm not that horrible. Severus knows the worst of me and said he can trust me. I shouldn't underestimate Harry. It may take a while..._

_I need some sleep to be fit for the show tomorrow, the drama as Severus called it. It is good to have him here today and tomorrow. He's the best company I had for ages. Twitchy, grumpy and distrustful as he is. I should have listened to Reggie a long time ago._


	43. Severus/Sirius: Stray Cat

_~Severus~_

 _I trust him, I think as I climb the stairs, does he trust me? He seems to, but he's a Gryffindor, and no Gryffindor has trusted me who had much of a choice. Something that haunts me, Lily's trust. I could do magic, she could do magic, why doubt me?_

 _Oh, but she did, I can see that, but not at first. Not until she was destroyed by her own pride of lions. No Gryffindor has shown me true loyalty. Once they have options, they stray._

Does Sirius have options? Yes. Yet he chooses to cross Harry Potter and he also chooses to have as near to a Slytherin home Christmas as he can, including the invitation of Andromeda Tonks and Narcissa and Draco, the last two of whom believe me a traitor to what should have been a last stand among Death Eaters, even lost as they were. Even if they turned tail and slithered away like people with half a sense of self preservation. I think darkly of this as I enter Regulus' room. I can feel that Kreacher is near, though how I cannot say. He lurks like I once lurked. I can sense these things.

 _Sirius' pronounced mistrust of Dumbledore only forces more trust on me. And he has given me occasion to bite here and there regarding James Potter – and I have restrained myself once, and not noticed another opportunity until it passed. I could needle him, but why?_

 _He is a child of snakes lost amid the lions, and he's fearful. He thinks bravado will protect him? I will protect him if I have to._

 _I sit on the bed and take of my boots, and decide not to bother undressing. I stand and pull out Regulus' cloak and swing it out, then skitter under it like the twitchy person Sirius thinks I am. He must distrust me ... but if he did, would he reveal his honest feelings? He's in a tender position, as am I. We have mutual but not inshakeable trust. We will see. He can be charming company, even under Veritaserum._

 _I am lost in contemplation and all I can think of is trust, and its limitations and freedoms._

 _Is there no charm cast to get rid of the horrendous London traffic? I am about to cast my best Silencing Charm when I hear a meow. A loud and tempestuous meow, more like._

 _Alexi! Poor thing, I had forgotten about her. There is a rattling noise. Apparently she has caught herself on something, I can hear her scrabble against something metal in the dark, but not dark enough to keep out the street light. She is struggling._

 _I reach for my wand in its pocket, mutter "Lumos" and move toward my distressed Burmese, and I unhook her from a catch on a bronze service lift. It judders and Alexi slips inside. Are all cats Gryffindors, I wonder, and I may have to go after her. I am curious but this is Sirius' house and our trust seems a shame to risk for the sake of retrieving a cat, who will surely work her way out of wherever this leads to. It was mentioned before and I rack my brains trying to think of when, and like it can, memory fails._

 _I can remember Sirius' grey eyes so like Regulus' and I imagine them scorching me with dark humour. He would find it very amusing, very Gryffindor, if I follow her._

Instead I call through the grate after her.

 _“Alexi?” _I speak through the grates. “_ ">Where did you get to?”_

“Severus?” _comes back at me._ “Is Kreacher bothering you?” _I remember that Sirius' and Regulus' rooms are connected by this lift._ “I believe my cat Alexi is with you. She went on the lift. Could Padfoot take care of her and see she rejoins me?”

 _It must strike him as bizarre as it strikes me that I refer to **Padfoot** when I have not done that my entire life. I was never able to. I shock myself. I know now why there no silencing charm between the two rooms. He and Regulus must have used the lift to communicate, including speech._ _I wait for his reply._

 _~Sirius~_

“Certainly, she can't get out.” _I light the lamp on my bedside table and can hardly suppress a smile. Severus' nose poking out of the lift door in pursuit of a stray cat. Old habits die hard._

“Oh, here she is. Looking for Padfoot? Calm down Kitty, it's Padfoot, just without the fur. “ _I hold out my hand; let her sniff. Then I lift her up carefully. Why do I think of peppermint chocolates?_

 _“You're missed by your friend. It's not a good idea to stroll around this house alone until you know it better.”_

 _I hand her over to Severus. The closeness seems to scare us both, but for the sake of the cat we try not to flinch._

“.... if you feel that Kreacher is lurking at your doorstep. I've told him to look, if you need something. Just tell him to leave and he will.”

 _~Severus~_

“I'll bear that in mind,” _I tell him. I bid him goodnight and make toward the lift. I halt._

“I brought something with me it seems.” __

 _I needn't have pointed it out. I am trailing Regulus' robes along, over my left shoulder. I drag it off the floor and place it carefully over my shoulder, with the type of care I generally reserve for tricking Death Eaters or modifying a dangerous potion or creating a new spell._

 _“Did you ever try to convince Regulus to go your way? To be a Gryffindor and turn his back on all he knew? Because he considered it once, he told me. I'd forgotten. Not to push a guilt trip on you, but he admired faraway lions more than the snakes at hand sometimes. He never would have made a good Gryffindor. Too much of a decent sense of self-preservation among other things.” _I raise an eyebrow._ “Though of course the hat takes choice into account. Our choices were different, Sirius, but we have some of the same traits. Lack of trust is surely one of them. I am fighting this as I am sure are you. And neither of us take well to accusations of stupidity or cowardice. Goodnight.”_

 _I wait, moving slowly, to see how he will take my candid speech. And if he ever tried to make Regulus anything but a slithering snake. I hear Kreacher moving about outside. I grasp Alexi's collar lightly, to prevent her escaping. I grit my teeth and wait for the reaction, if there is one._

 _I am just waiting for him to shatter my trust, and I know it._

 __~Sirius~_ _

__I can only smile sadly._ _

_“I took too much for granted and judged on appearances without listening. Have we learned from our mistakes? Good night, Sev.”_

 


	44. Severus/Sirius: Dancing Biscuit Cutters

_~Severus~_

_I rested as long as I could but didn't sleep. I sneak downstairs with Kreacher at my heels, Kreacher trembling not with fury but delight. I'm wearing Regulus' cloak for warmth, and Kreacher is just revolting in is idolatry of the cloak. Sirius will have a hard time believing his eyes this morning, but it's not the cloak. It's what Kreacher and I salvaged together at five o'clock in the morning._

_A Hippogriff, a horse, a duck and a greyhound, a sheep, cow, ox and a donkey, and to top it off a large stag and a small doe. Except the stag is missing two feet. Kreacher seemed to take that order well, and I have to make some nod to reality._

_Kreacher is producing large stretches of dough on the counters. Everything is set for the mongrel/friend to make his way downstairs. Did Sirius really believe my snark would come in the way of my ambition to procure a friendly Defence Against the Dark Arts master and a kindred spirit who understands what only the likes of us, orphans of the Wizarding World, understand each other?_

_I am trying to show him._

_We wait in tense silence, with Kreacher compulsively checking and re-checking the honey-butter-almond dough. Finally, there is a faint creak on the stair. It's only Alexi. I pet her for a moment and hear Sirius' yawn from above._

“Do as you were ordered!”

_I hiss at Kreacher and he jumps like I've spilt a cauldron of Bubotuber pus over him._

“Yes, master, nasty happy.”

_What? Nasty happy? Who can fathom a demented house-elf?_

_Kreacher hurries around the table. Sirius pokes his head in the door, and barks a good morning – but stops partway through it. He looks like the cat's got his tongue. I am hiding a few cutters. Strategy is everything, even in silly trifles that mean more than they appear._

_A greyhound cutter leaps across the dough, leaving not trace but a blur of speed. A duck is waddling slowly leaving many imprints behind. The greyhound flashes back, and as it does so, it reveals that it had made an imprint, now both sides are done – and here I produce my wand – and I make the biscuits float and dance as well. The Hippogriff makes the mistake of coming after the cow, which Kreacher makes “moo” and I make the cow biscuits “moo” as well._

_I'm not bothering to watch Sirius' expression._

_The Hippogriff and its creations get irritated and dig their talons into the cow. The donkey slowly creates cut after cut without dancing, It's the representative of the sombre winter. Father Christmas and his reindeer tear about in the sky, producing little but I have them jingling carols by smashing into each other at musical intervals._

“Sirius,” _I say, reaching for the man, grasping him above the elbow._ “There are two more cutters.”

“I thought I was a kid and you were Regulus.” _Sirius shook his mane of hair._ "Two more? Did Kreacher save...?”

“The doe will be the central piece. I am afraid the stag is ... slightly the worse for wear.”

_Sirius laughs again, and I give Kreacher the doe and the stag. Kreacher is enjoying himself to judge by squeals of delight at the incredulity and happiness on Sirius' face._

“Now, Kreacher.” _I command him._

_Kreacher enchants tinsel snakes to wind around the stag and the stag captures the doe with the silvery tinsel. I conduct the reindeer and Father Christmas in playing “Adeste Fidelis” and in symbol“Silent Night”, not to mention the even more symbolic “I'll Be Home For Christmas.”_

_~Sirius~_

_I'm lost for words. Can only stand here laughing, watch them in amazement, feeling like a little boy. It's like magic, magic not taught at Hogwarts. We're both like little boys, spellbound and I'm scared of the moment the enchantment will end._

_The dancing and the music slows down, while Kreacher gets the first trays out of the oven. He doesn't bother with decorating them because we will eat them before the chocolate can cool down. Once they are baked, the biscuits don't move anymore. They are ordinary sweets which makes it easier to eat them. Severus just bit off the head of one Father Christmas and I nibble at the ends of a stag's antlers. Early morning passes merrily and all too quickly._

_We're not little boys and the Wizarding World is not dancing at Christmas and singing cutters. There's work to be done, before the party. Kreacher is getting nervous, because the last deliveries haven't arrived, yet. Severus seems to wake up from a dreamlike state and obviously feels embarrassed and I remember that I haven't made sure that Kreacher won't tell Harry too much. The dilemma is unavoidable. I can't talk to Kreacher behind Severus' back. I don't want to risk his trust. Severus must be an idiot if he hasn't noticed. He probably believes Kreacher has been ordered to watch him._

_I don't want to give him a wrong impression. Harry has not become my enemy. He's worried because he doesn't understand. He cares, wants to protect me against myself. But he has no bloody right to meddle with my life, no right to order my own elf to spy on me! To spy on us! Maybe I'm just paranoid because of my guilty conscience. There's no reason to feel guilty. I'm not doing anything wrong._

“Kreacher, come here for a moment. We need to talk.” _Kreacher approaches slowly. Does he know what I'm going to ask?_

“Tell me, are you my elf?”

_He is nervous and seems to be insulted._

"You are my master. Kreacher has always been true to his family. Kreacher serves the master of the house of Black. Kreacher will protect his master's secrets.”

_I smile. I've expected this answer, but house elves are good at rationalizing conflicting loyalties._

“You've served a different master until yesterday, a good master you loved. Are there any orders you've been given, I might want to know about?”

"Master Harry has taken care of Kreacher all those years. He's a good wizard. Kreacher does not betray his master. Master Harry has told Kreacher to help with the party and follow your orders....”

_The usual stepping from one foot to another, trying to wiggle out._

“Master Harry cares for Master Sirius. He doesn't mean any harm.”

“Yes, Harry is a good man, a good wizard, but you understand that you can only serve one master, don't you? I prefer my private conversations and doings to remain private.”

_Severus is observing this strange conversation warily._

“Kreacher has not been listening at the door. He hasn't heard what you said to Professor Snape about the party. Kreacher's not spying on his master. No, no, no. Kreacher is a good elf. Kreacher won't let anyone harm his master”

_The elf is almost in tears. His ears are hanging down. I try to comfort him._

“I know you are a good elf. I don't accuse you of betraying me willingly. That's why I am now telling you what we are planning to do. “ __

_For a second Severus looks alarmed. I should know how to deal with my elf, shouldn't I?_

"We want to bring Regulus' body home from the cave and give him a proper funeral, but Harry doesn't understand that. He says the Ministry wants to keep places which were important to Voldemort secret and fears that it's still dangerous to enter the cave. He has refused to tell me where it is. Can you tell me? You've been there.”

_Kreacher stares at us with wide open eyes._

“Bringing Master Regulus home? Kreacher will do anything to help with that. The cave is....it lies near....” __

_Kreacher tries desperately, but he can't._

“Have you been forbidden to tell? I won't order you to disobey. If you can't answer, it's alright.”

_Shaking his head, ears flapping the elf tries to answer._

“No, not forbidden. Kreacher can't tell. He doesn't remember. The cave is at the sea; it's dark and cold. Kreacher was scared. I can't remember... where it is.” _He sobs_.

"It's alright, don't try, if it hurts you.” _I turn to Severus._ “Do you think you can look without hurting Kreacher?”

_He nods and draws his wand. Kreacher shivers. I draw him close, holding him to assure him that he won't be in danger._

“Severus won't hurt you, I promise. Do you believe me?” __

_Kreacher stops sobbing and trembling, but he's still pressed against me._

“Kreacher, you must look at Severus. Look into his eyes. Don't be afraid.”

"Legilimens!”

_It only takes a second. Severus' face is very grave, when he speaks._

__  
“Recently obliviated. Mrs Weasley's work. He remembers everything except the location of the cave. I can try to retrieve the memory, but not without hurting the elf.”

 _I still hold the trembling Kreacher in my arms. Did I feel guilty about plotting against Harry moments ago? I don't anymore._  
'I can't make an exception from Ministry laws for you, Sirius'   
_, Harry had said. No, he can't. Law breaking is their privilege._

"No Severus, harming Kreacher in the slightest is not an option.” __

_I grin mischievously to hide my anger about what they'd done to the elf._

“ **We** won't do anything illegal.”

 __  
Severus smirks.   
  
  
“You're saying....”  


"You can hurt Kreacher, if it helps. Kreacher wants to help. Master Snape, do whatever is necessary.” __

_Kreacher let's go of me and stands up straight, facing Severus, looking right into his eyes._

"Your elf spent too much time with Gryffindors. He got infected.” _Can sarcasm be affectionate?_

_I turn the elf around._

“No Kreacher, you don't need to go through that. We're not going to hurt you. There's another way. You can help. You can tell Harry what we want him to believe. You don't need to lie – not really – just don't go into detail.”

~Severus~

_This seeming plan goes over well with Kreacher, and I want it as such. As Sirius orders Kreacher to ready the entrance for the guests I get a chance and begin to speak immediately in a low, terse voice._

“Which idiot does Harry Potter trust more than any other pure fool? Ronald Bilius Weasley. With Hermione at his side, he seems well supported and right in on the action with Harry, but can ask stupid yet leading questions and make prolonged eye contact without suspicion. I suggest you lead Ronald away and give him some tea with the Draught of Peace in it. I carry a fair quantity of that. He can fall asleep someplace you can make certain he is not disturbed. I do not suggest Regulus' room but I leave it up to you. You also need to occupy Kreacher while I ask seemingly dimwitted questions using...”

"Polyjuice Potion,” _chimes in Sirius and I see that he has cottoned on quite easily._

“Yes, Polyjuice Potion. I have enough to last me several hours if necessary, and I will use Legilimency seamlessly should all go well.”

_I can't help but smile in triumph at my trickery. Perhaps I have been around a Gryffinsnake too long?_

“No need to harm Kreacher from any angle. We get what we want, and Ron is too sleepy to remember anything. I can go into a lion's stretching and yawning fit as I retreat from my position. We're not breaking any laws those involved didn't manage to break in school and while under-age. They broke into my stores. Quite amusing to think of the things Ronald Weasley can ask and not receive a blow to the head. I will not be completely indelicate.”

_~ Sirius~_

"Let me think... I can call for his assistance to assemble the Christmas pyramid for Arthur. If you approach Harry during that time and tell him I've tried to get information from you, from Ron, you have him right where we want him. We also need an excuse for your disappearance. Impersonating Ron for a longer time might lead to unwanted results.” _Twinkling mischievously._ “Unless you want to enjoy Hermione's affections? She is a pretty, young woman and she gets very clingy after a glass or two.” __

_Severus' face is priceless. He obviously hasn't thought of that._

"There's a small room just behind the kitchen, where Kreacher usually did the laundry. It's perfect for assembling the pyramid and people have to pass Kreacher's realm to get there. By the way, I think we can trust Kreacher. The more he's is told by us in confidence, the less he will tell. You can change clothes with Ron there without any problem. Nowadays, since he has a regular income, one can never guess what robes he's wearing. He might have chosen something in honour of his favourite Quidditch team.... Just kidding, not even Ron wears bright orange on such an occasion.”

~Severus~

“Ha, ha,” _I sneer._ “I hardly need the attentions of Hermione Weasley. Every time I see her I imagine her sitting on the edge of her seat with her hand in the air, the eternal insufferable know-it-all. That she married such a dunce is indeed proof that opposites attract. Actually, she would have done better with Gregory Goyle.” _I smirk._

“You take care of the Pyramid scheme,” _I allow myself a wider smirk,_ “And Hermione can be distracted by someone like Ginny after she comes near and I 'accidentally' shred the back of her dress robes and stun her wand. Yes, stun her wand, when her back is turned. It's a nasty trick...it reverses quickly enough that she'll think she's the problem, not the wand, and she will have to be helped by someone to repair her robes.” _I pause._

“But she'll come straight to me to complain and won't let me interrogate Harry. Perhaps you could suggest to Ginny that she and Hermione help make punch? And tell them to find a specific ladle or another instrument among the plethora in the kitchen to occupy them? If anything in the known universe isn't in her bottomless beaded bag. Then lead Ron off. Less nasty, but more simple. The things one has to suffer or simplicity's sake. Whatever the case I will act as if Ron has had a few extra drinks he can't hold and see he toddles off in a haze.”

“I bet Kreacher will drive them out of his kitchen with the largest ladle if they try. I'll improvise.”

_There is a sudden knock at the door and the sound of an impatient buzzer._

“That will be the tree and the boxes of Christmas decorations? Kreacher told me they were yet to arrive.”

_I move quickly down to the door, Sirius at my heels._

_Sirius and I hasten to the front door, Sirius shaking his head at my definite lack of forethought about the plans, or for some other reason. Kreacher has repaired the umbrella stand so that it no longer resembles a troll's leg. The shoes and boots are carefully placed on the shelves and every cloak hung neatly, with plenty of space for the guests. Kreacher bows low._

“The front hall is readied for the guests as master wished,” he croaks. “Kreacher...”

"We have to answer the door, Kreacher, get out of the way!” I snap. 

The elf cringes and says, “Master Snape must do as he wishes but master Sirius knows...”

“Answer the door like you wanted, Kreacher,” Sirius tells the elf as the buzzer is pressed three times in a row. Kreacher opens the door to reveal us to Stanley Shunpike, the ex-conductor of the Knight Bus. Now he works out of the Hog's Head in the kind of business that would suit Mundungus Fletcher.

The Christmas tree...that's seventeen Galleons and...what's Snape doing with you?” Stan wonders aloud.

"Never mind that,  
_" I snarl. “_  
Where are the eight boxes of decorations that Mundungus liberated from this house?  
_”_

_Kreacher has kept me informed. But I feel a hand on my shoulder. I jerk away but still calm down. That Black Family objects should mean anything to me takes me by surprise. But then, the house is a stronghold of Slytherin house, and I can never escape the entwining serpent. Nor do I mean to_

_Sirius bargains firmly with Stan and gets everything for a song. Stan is a pushover. We close the door and open the first box._

_We spend the next hours decorating the house from green and silver floor to green and silver roof, concentrating mainly on the drawing room, aided and abetted by Kreacher, who is whistling between his bucked teeth. He is having such a good time it reminds me of the biscuit cutter song and dance. At least Sirius thinks that is mostly Kreacher's invention._

_Red sneaks its way in, of course, this being Christmas. I even allow Sirius to see me spreading red and gold bubbles onto some cedar boughs in the drawing room. I see him smirk and look away, producing thin silver and green tinsel snakes where his shoelaces should be. Slytherins can be mischievous too.  
He barks his hound's laughing bark at his feet. I wonder how he'll retaliate. _

_~Sirius~_

_Snake laces. For a moment I wonder if Kreacher has put something into the biscuits. Unlikely under the watchful eyes of a potion master. I don't mind, neither the laces nor Severus' cheerfulness. He's waiting for me to return the favour. Let him wait; I can bide my time._

"Come all ye Merry Hippogriffs...."

 

 


	45. Sirius/Severus: The Tapestry

_~Sirius~_

_Severus is really in a better mood than yesterday and helps me decorate the drawing room. I have expected him to insist on … a more subtle tone But when a snake and a lion collaborate to have their way, they are doing it full scale. We need to make room for the tree at the other side of the fireplace. This year it won't hide the tapestry._

_The tapestry, it's about time that Andromeda arrives. I'm so curious what magic she has worked on it. The floo connection has been transferred to the drawing room fireplace. Kreacher doesn't want anyone near the kitchen. He's so much in control of everything that I'm starting to feel like a little boy again. I expect him to check my fingernails, tell me to wash my hands and comb my hair. I'd love to see him trying that on Sev._

_We rummage Kreacher's trunk for the top ornament. Severus picks the obvious, a large king cobra. No really, that thing is dreadful! It belonged to Aunt Elladora and father said they found it when clearing her rooms after her death. We never used it. There must be another one, a large golden star._

_With most of us named after stars there had always been a competition going on who's star it was. We used to draw straws. Aunt Charis then made her usual sermon about respecting the symbols of faith. Uncle Alphard said she was only envious because she wasn't a star. Why she was named a grace, remains a mystery. Nobody missed the Crouches when they stopped attending._

_Bellatrix cheated._

_Andromeda drops out of the fire, little Teddy wrapped into her cloak. She smiles at the sight of the star._ “Yours or mine?” _I return her smile and shake my head. We both know who's star it is. Severus looks warily. No, I won't tell him every family secret unless he asks nicely_

_Family. Andromeda places a large package wrapped in tissue onto a table. Teddy stirs, while she gets rid of her cloak. I can hardly hold back my curiosity. Will it be like I hope for? All of us restored? Evil is not in the blood, neither one way nor the other._

_Andromeda takes a look around._ “You two have been busy, I see. I'm afraid Teddy's late for his after-lunch nap. Is there a quiet place to lay him down, before we unwrap the tapestry?”

_Kreacher is beaming. I had almost forgotten how much he loves kids. Nice, well-behaved kids that is. Teddy naturally is Kreacher's favourite, kind and sweet tempered as his parents. Kreacher stretches out his hands to receive the boy._

“Kreacher has prepared the usual chamber. All ready for the children, beds, surveillance charms...”

_Andromeda hesitates for a second; then she remembers that Kreacher has taken care of generations of Blacks. Why not for the latest?_

_He leaves the room with his precious bundle and a moment later we can hear strange noises from afar. He is singing a lullaby. Even Severus has to bite his lips to stop grinning._

“Babies don't mind....”

_No babies don't mind at all. Although elves deny it, there's a magic in their songs which calms down the children and gives them happy dreams. I don't think many wizards do appreciate such powers in their slaves._

_I can't stop myself from getting impatient and stare at the wrapped tapestry._

“You were about to put the star up? Carry on, the old cloth can wait.”

 _I sigh and beg her:_ “Andy, please....”

“Sirius, don't act like a child. Can a guest at least get a cup of tea at your house?”

_Kreacher is still singing, so I surrender and leave for the kitchen._

_~Severus~_

_The awkward moment. The last time I saw Andromeda was at the Ministry for the dratted 'Certificate of Clearance.' She wasn't fond of it. She looks enough like Bellatrix to make my skin crawl and make the Ministry Board Regarding Death Eaters and Collaborators (as in non-Gryffindors and non-Muggle-born) look twice at her. She was married to a Muggle-born who refused to register with the Muggle-Born Registration Commission, on principle and was mother to an Order Member. Tonks died a hero's death and her husband as well, leaving a child, Teddy, behind._

_This passes through my mind as I see the more kittenish features and the pale face that resemble Narcissa. I can see the Board investigating known Death Eaters, but suspects and suspected collaborators is too far; I'd rather they scrapped it entirely and allow for human error, even in extreme cases such as the Carrows and Lucius._

_An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth makes the whole world blind and toothless. There is no point in apportioning blame. It's over. Those that continue nefarious activities can be tossed in a cellar of rabid Hippogriffs for all I care. The point is that there is a dividing line. I resented having to prove who I am for everyone to see. It was a spectacle. They went for ... they go for ... the grand effect; the Ministry has always been sensationalistic, no matter what its role. She's still staring at me from under heavily hooded eyes._

“Severus,” _she begins in a rush,_ “Sirius needs a friend and he thinks ... believes that you could be the one. I'll have to trust your word that you aren't here to harm Sirius. Listen to me!” __

_She commands the way Bellatrix once did._

_“_ You have to take care of him. He's trying to regain the family, to find himself and if you stand in his way...you must help him. I know it's all for Regulus.”

_I was wrong. She wasn't commanding. She was desperate for help. She doesn't look like either of her sisters at all at the moment, in fact, she's smiling with almost motherly care._

“In some aspects, my cousin is like a little boy, a clever boy and far from innocent, unpredictable and yes, dangerous. He's reckless like a child and rash in speaking his mind. One false word spoken in anger... ”

_I'm eyeing her with suspicion, ready to attack, but it is clear that she does not know how well I do understand._

“He's a Gryffindor and will bring Gryffindors and Muggleborns like Hermione Weasley, and much as I like her, I hate her style of the ruling of lion and victim with an iron fist.” _She pauses for breath._

_I have a little ironic smile. She seems encouraged. I'll let her talk herself out._

“You must promise me, Severus, I know you are decent. You did more to win that war than even that mock justice called your Clearance admitted..”

_I knew she'd raise the topic. I don't need to ask Sirius his position. I can fathom the fathomless hatred for it, I know he must have. I nod once and glare at the wall, look in her eyes one expects to find madness in, then glare at the wall again as I find none._

“Please protect Sirius. Keep him from harm and from harming others. Say you will. He has a big mouth and louder actions. I'm trusting Slytherin cunning here.”

“Talk your politics with Sirius. Cunning is, of course, the only thing to trust in, other than the fact that I consider him...a friend. If I take a political stance I will only ruin things for my own neck. These things are to be private. We can discuss it with Sirius, but before the other guests arrive. You're right, he does have a big mouth and louder actions.” _I try to stop glaring but intensity is seeping through the cracks._

 _I hear Sirius coming with the tea and I say, “_  
"I will serve and protect the Blacks as surely as Kreacher if you wish it. I am Sirius' friend and I do not take the mantle on lightly..”

_She pauses, her Narcissa's nose and her Bellatrix' eyes no longer existing for me. I have little hesitancy to trust and she must have little hesitancy to trust me. It's the desperation of the moment, our mutual fear for Sirius. I do not glare any more._

_“I wish it,” _she mutters to me under her breath as Sirius enters the room with the tea tray.__

__  
_~Sirius~_  


__

__After two or three sips from her tea cup and one of Kreacher's biscuits Andromeda finally puts me out of my misery._ _

__

“Allright, before you die of curiosity. Let's stick the tapestry back to the wall. Could you two please pick up the upper edges and levitate it. Be careful to keep it level. I'll do the sticking charm and tighten it.”

_I don't remember that it had been so heavy, when I ripped it off three months ago, only that it went down it a cloud of suffocating dust. It's not so easy to keep these about 14 square yards of linen straight. The edges try to roll up. Thank goodness Kreacher returns at the right moment. He is very happy and proud to make himself useful. Well, he's already done it two or three times and knows the tricks._

_The sight of the tapestry restored and in its place is amazing. Of course, I had once seen it freshly cleaned as a boy and remembered it before it was hit by my mother's fiery temper, but Andromeda's repairs have done something else to the tree._

“It's alive!”

“Well, yes of course. It's a living growing tree like we were once supposed to be a living growing family. When I understood that, I found that I could recover much more of the past than I've told you at first. I've found a few more Squibs and several 'non pur' spouses hidden under green leaves. Tip your wand on a discontinued female or mixed line and more offspring is revealed. Not all of our ancestors were as furious in their attempts to keep the tree pure as Aunt Walpurga. Most of them were content to cover up the unwanted offspring. Some even changed their minds over time. Look at that branch. ”

_She points at a grumpy looking warlock from the 16 th century._

“He was a notorious Dark Wizard in his time and spent some years in Azkaban. His very respectable brother, a member of the Ministry, covered him with leaves, but at a later time somebody cut the leafy twig back and returned him to sight. There are several stories like that. That one you should remember. Alward Black.”

_I stare at a blackened, broken branch that seems to have been struck by a lightning. The name sounds familiar, but I could swear I haven't seen the broken branch before. I shrug my shoulders._

“Covered for political reasons. Alward and his gang of Red Caps, Uncle Arcturus loved to tell the tale how they came down from the Highlands and terrorised the border. They dyed their caps in fresh Muggle blood each new day. ”

“Oh, yes I remember, another of those Muggle-hunting weirdos who are all over the tree.” _I remember grandfather's tale. He told it in every colourful detail and mother forbid it at last because it made Reggie sick. But then.... why did they cover...?_ “His story looks like something they should have been proud of. Why was his branch covered up and how got it burned like that?”

“Politics as I said. Uncle Arcturus didn't tell the full story. He probably didn't know it. Alward Black destroyed his branch himself before he joined the Red Caps. His Squib wife and five young wizard sons were burned at the stake for evil sorcery, while he was away from home. The following generations were quite embarrassed by his weakness and remember they still deny that tragedies like that happened. Wizarding supremacy doesn't allow Muggles to be taken seriously. They have to be stupid, easy to fool like harmless children. If there is one thing both sides always agreed upon, it's that the Statute of Secrecy was introduced to protect the Muggles. Wizards are so powerful and superior that they don't need the secrecy. When a child gets scared by reality, they comfort it with Babbity Rabbitty and Wendelin the Weird. “

_It is strange to hear such words spoken aloud, by a pureblood witch, by kind and tolerant Andromeda. She doesn't hate Muggles; she's just realistic. Severus seems to be lost in thought and not pleasant ones. I try to remember the very few things he mentioned about his childhood and the scarce information Lily gave. What is it like to be a wizard growing up in the Muggle world? To me, it was adventure land. A knight's quest into barbaric realms, it seemed noble and chivalrous to learn their rules and play by them, to try and control my magic not to harm the cute little non-magic weaklings._

_I entered their world at will and on my terms. Severus depended on them. I never had problems to make friends or win the respect of opponents, frilled shirts or no. Hogwarts meant freedom to me; to Severus, it must have meant safety, a place to belong. And he came there with high hopes only to find out that James and I were even worse than the Muggles. All he had was his magic, while mine was just one tiny natural part of me. The silence becomes uneasy. I don't want the tapestry to destroy our cheerful mood._

“ So where shall we look for you, Sev? Regulus mentioned that your grandfather is somewhere on the tree.”

_Severus glares at me._

“Oh c'mon. It only shows how ridiculous the pureblood mania was. We're all cousins. Family hugs are not mandatory, though.”

“Livius Prince, son of Araminta Black and Damien Prince, far right, early 20th century.” _, he snarls._

_At this moment he reminds me of James. He didn't like to be on the tree either. I'd better not mention it... I don't need to. Severus is well aware of it._

_“Stop smirking. Regulus didn't fail to mention your mother's aunts Cedrella and Dorea. There's not a drop of Potter or Weasley blood in my veins.”_

_“Neither in mine, for the last hundred years, so where's the problem?” _Severus nods shortly in approval. He's really making an effort to be social. I wish I knew how to show that I notice and am grateful for his tolerance to my folly.__

__

_“Oh, I see there's even double ancestry as it is called in dogs' pedigrees. Phineas failed to mention that his wife was related to your grandmother.” ___

__  
__

_A warning cough is heard from the portrait._

“Most people fail to remember their relations to my grandmother. She was considered a madwoman.”

_There's some bitterness in these muttered words. Put my foot right in it again, I suppose._

“Some say it's often caused by repeatedly marrying cousins.”

 _It's my turned to frown._ “Not all of us went mad, despite the inbreeding. Andromeda and I are examples for that.”<

_“You're the poster boy for sanity, of course.”_

_Severus seems to regret his sharp retort immediately and bites his lip._

_I look at him firmly. One can really see his inner defences flare up, his face turn to stone and he prepares himself for my counter attack._

_We're friends, Sev. I don't attack a friend for saying the truth. I manage to smile._

_“I dare anyone to say otherwise.”_

__

_I bark this threat and break out in laughter. Andromeda joins in and after a moment of surprise and confusion Severus laughs, too._

__  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note:  
>  Severus' ancestry as we imagine it for this story, loosely based on Kat's previous fics (Silent Chess series)
> 
> _Balthasar Black, youngest brother of Phineas Nigellus' father, roughly the same age as Phineas_
> 
> __  
> _↓_  
> 
> 
> Araminta (not Meliflua) Black - Damien Prince
> 
> _↓_
> 
> Livius Prince - Sayla Flint
> 
> _↓_
> 
> Eileen Prince - Tobias Snape
> 
> _↓_
> 
> Severus Snape
> 
> For birthdates refer to the Black Family Tree at the Lexicon. Severus' ancestors parallel Sirius' direct male ancestors Phineas – Sirius – Arcturus – Orion
> 
> _****_
> 
> _Alward is a not so common name for Rastaban, also known as Beta Draconis, the third brightest star of the constellation Draco. The name either means "who is to be destroyed" or when traced to Arabic “the lute player”._


	46. Sirius: Arrival of the guests

~Sirius~

_We've changed into our dress robes. I feel a bit odd. I've been wearing robes on occasion since I've moved back here. They are quite comfortable, especially for a quiet evening indoors, but these are special. In a way, one might say they are the reason why I left so many years ago. Blood-red brocade, kind of old-fashioned, the fabric was mother's choice, of course. The fabric for the robes that were never made had been carefully wrapped and packed away, for me to find it and have them finally made. I don't think anyone will notice. Not even Narcissa will remember that Regulus wore robes wit the same pattern in emerald green at the Malfoy summer ball of 1976. I'm the only one to know. I have returned …. home._

_Severus' are a surprise. They are also red, dark burgundy, almost black, but not quite. He seems to feel a bit embarrassed because we look like brothers. The family portraits in the hall whisper to each other, only mother remains silent._

_Kreacher is standing near the front door, waiting for the guests to arrive. He's wearing his best dress rags, reserved for Christmas. An old tablecloth, dark green with seasonal embroidery of brilliant red and golden threads. Amazing how well green and red go together this time of year and equally amazing how much Kreacher managed to save from all past attempts to clean the house of Black memories. Mundungus nicked the silver and other valuables, but nobody has thought of clearing the attic of old boxes and trunks. Locked and forgotten, except by Kreacher. Even the silver is back where it belongs. Harry retrieved it because he couldn't let Dung get away with stealing from my house. For a moment I get second thoughts again about what I'm doing here. Harry really cares for me and so do the others, but I cannot pretend anymore to be somebody else._

_Harry and Ginny are the first._

“Welcome to the noble and most ancient House of Black, Master and Mistress Potter.”

_Kreacher says bowing low while waiting to receive their cloaks. I try hard not to chuckle at their irritation. I walk up to greet them, give Harry a pat on the back and Ginny a kiss on the hand which makes her giggle. Andromeda has followed me. She agreed to play the lady of the house on this occasion. We enter the candlelit drawing room and little Teddy immediately drops the silver snake he's been teasing Alexi with._

“Uncle Harry!”

_He lands in Harry's arms and squeals with happiness when Harry lifts him up and turns round and round. I hardly can suppress the pangs of jealousy, such moments with Harry were so rare in the few months we've had. Dumbledore did everything in his power to keep me away from the Potters after he took the cloak. Anger arises again, not just against the dead man, but also against the persistent denial from the living of what he did to us. We believed we were fighting for something and were ready to die, but we were only distractions from his master plan. Pawns on a chessboard._

_Stop this, Sirius! Now!_

_Harry has set down Teddy and takes a look around. He gives Severus who unsuccessfully tries to blend in with the dark bookshelves – I guess he regrets that he's not wearing his usual black - a curt nod. His eyes fall on the tapestry. As annoying as I think his habit of not asking too many questions nowadays, I'm grateful for it at this very moment. Teddy has dragged Ginny to the Christmas tree where the abandoned Alexi tries to pull another snake from a lower twig._

“Oh, Sirius, you got yourself a pet! Isn't she cute?. What's her name?”

“Lexi! Lexi!”

_Teddy is giddy with excitement to introduce his new friend._

“Alexi's not mine, I'm afraid. She belongs to Severus.”

_I say, while the cat answers in her own way. She's fled from the stranger's hugs and the noise and hid under the seams of her owner's robes. Sorry, can't help you out of this, Sev; the fire announces the arrival of the next guests._

_Molly and Arthur land on the floor, followed by Percy and his wife Audrey only a moment later. The omnipresent elf repeats his formal welcome and collects the light cloaks the floo-travellers wear to protect their dress robes from the ashes._

_I'm actually fond of Arthur. He is the only one who's not expecting me to act like a teenager and telling me off for doing so afterwards. We've had a good time in summer, getting my bike back in Muggle working order and going on rides through the country. 'Don't tell Molly.' As if she didn't know. Percy is paying his respect to the Headmaster._

_The guests arrive one by one, some by floo, some at the front door, Charlie by broom._

_Hermione doesn't like Kreacher's appearance; that's obvious. While the other women gather around the children beside the Christmas tree, she pulls me aside._

“What have you done to Kreacher? Where does this awful cloth come from? He's not himself anymore.”

“Don't let him hear that. He's is awfully proud of his dress rags. It was a present from my mother.”

_That I can talk about my mother so calmly, confuses her._

“I haven't done anything to him. He decided that his loyalty belongs to the Black family. He's pretty much himself again, trust me.”

“Master, Kreacher thinks it's time to offer the appetisers. And may I ask, when dinner should be served.”

“Whenever you see fit. I trust your experience. We're expecting two more guests. You remember Mistress Narcissa and young Mr Malfoy, do you?”

_The elf hurries away._

“Sirius Black, what have you done to this house elf? He hated you and you hated him. Yesterday morning he wasn't even willing to make you a decent cup of tea. Now he adores you. When you said you trust him, I've halfway expected him to kiss your hand. Don't tell me he's acting normal.”

“Kreacher is a well-trained, traditional elf. He wouldn't embarrass me in public.” __

_Hermione gasps in indignation._

“Look Hermione, Kreacher is acting perfectly normal for a house elf towards his master. The misunderstandings – yes, misunderstandings – between me and Kreacher were based in my youth. We had a talk when you were gone and settled a few arguments. He's now happy to serve me and he's really been a great help during the preparations for this evening. I have not threatened, hexed, cursed or charmed Kreacher nor have I used mind controlling magic of any other kind on him if that's what you're implying. I'm familiar with your new legislation. I don't have any intention to go to Azkaban again.”

"I wouldn't think of ..."

"You wouldn't? But if you really suspect me of having committed a crime, you should."

_She's feeling uncomfortable. That's the point of it, isn't it?_

"I don't suspect you... Maybe Kreacher is acting normal, but... It's all so odd. You are odd. This dinner party, the decoration," _She looks me up and down and glares at Severus._ "this dress robes!" _I pull a face._ "It's all like I'd expect a party at the Malfoys. You've even restored that awful tapestry."

"Andromeda has done a great job with that, hasn't she? All the renegade Blacks of the last 100 years put back in their rightful places. It has been a lot of work; there have been many Black sheep like me. Isn't it better that they are recognised as part of the family rather than buried with the nasty lot?"

"I suppose, if you put it like that..."

"You can't really compare my simple townhouse with Lucius' manor, though I've done my best to make it a home. As for the dress robes... jeans and leather jacket seemed inappropriate for a dinner party. The rest is pure coincidence, honestly. If you excuse me now. I've got to look after my other guests."

_I stroll over to Severus who got rid of Percy at last._

"Enjoying your party?"

"Tremendously. Just had a little chit-chat with Hermione. She doesn't agree with my taste in interior decoration or fashion for that matter."

"You didn't expect her to, did you?"

"Not really, no. That's the purpose of this show, to make them understand that it is not their business. When I want to wear a robe, I do it; when I want to have fish and chips for breakfast, I have it and when I want to hang 100 tinsel snakes on my Christmas tree.... As far as I'm concerned, they can love it or leave it. I don't care."

_I can see that he doesn't believe me. Maybe he's right. If I really didn't care, I wouldn't go through this to show them._

"So you don't care what they think? Not even… him?"

_I follow his eyes to the windows on the opposite side of the room. Harry is standing there with Ron. Hermione dutifully reports our little conversation. I don't know whether they can ever accept it or not, but this time I've made my choice not to meet anyone's expectations, but because I want it. I turn back to Severus._

"No, never again.... not even for Harry."

_Kreacher runs for the door. The door? Hasn't Severus said they'd arrive via floo?_

"Are you coming? I think Narcissa might appreciate a friendly face."

_Narcissa looks a bit ruffled. She's wearing the light floo-cloak, soaked with rain._

"Narcissa, I'm so glad you made it. May I repeat? Welcome to the noble and most ancient House of Black."

_I give her a decent hug and a light kiss on the cheek. She stiffens for a second and then trembles in nervous confusion. She takes refuge with Severus._

"Lucius has blocked the fireplace at the last minute. We had to walk off grounds to apparate."

_The young man at her side, Draco, glares with undisguised mistrust. I stretch out my hand in greeting._

"Very pleased to meet you at last..... Cousin."

_He looks at Severus for reassurance, before he accepts my hand._

_As we climb the stairs a yell is heard from the far end of the drawing room._

"Cissy!"

_Andromeda comes flying down the stairs and pulls her sister into her arms. A lot of hugging, kissing and affectionate whispering follows after am moment a completely baffled Draco is included._

_It feels so good to see her … them so happy. When the first onslaught is over, Andromeda turns to me, not letting go of Narcissa for one second, as if she's afraid of losing her again.._

"Why haven't you told me, Sirius? I nearly got a heart attack."

"It wouldn't have been a surprise if I told you."

 _I take an old-fashioned, rather dramatic low bow._ “Anything to please you, my lady.”

“Sirius Black, you are impossible.”

“I think not. But you should thank Severus for making it possible. With my tarnished reputation I needed a trustworthy messenger to deliver the invitation and convince Narcissa of my peaceful intentions.”

_Narcissa presses Severus hand in gratitude. Andromeda shows less reserve; she simply kisses him. Poor Severus, being trapped in the midst of a crowd of happily reunited Blacks is too much._

_We are now about to face the silent crowd in the drawing room. I swear, should anyone spoil this evening for Andromeda, he will regret it._


	47. Severus: Socialising

_~Severus~_

_I sent Narcissa a few owls explaining our – Sirius and my experiences. Now I am being mobbed. So far things are as I expected, except the sisterly squealing.  I never had siblings. I still have a hard time understanding Black family dynamics. Narcissa shows some small reserve, but Andromeda is like a Muggle at a rock concert in her enthusiasm. I cannot say I dislike it. I just dislike it aimed at me._

_I step aside and brush myself off nervously, and let the siblings rejoice. If Regulus were here and was being reunited with Sirius, I could see the reason for the clutching, so I should see it here. I look about the room observing.  I can't help but notice Draco trying to hide behind his mother. He's looking as uncertain about this as I am, if not more so._

_Draco, angular and severe in his obsidian robes trimmed with for some odd reason green. I would never have expected dark hues and emerald tones from Draco, I sneer inwardly. I might have dressed the same way for twenty-odd years. He looks pale, nervous and thin. Not much different than when I taught him Potions and Defence._

"Draco." _I nod my head and he looks relieved. His grey eyes dart back to the door. I see what looks like Lucius' walking stick._

"You're embodying your father I see. The walking stick."

"That is the same one. My wand is normally in it, my original wand once Potter handed it back to the Malfoy estate. Of course, I decided to remove my wand for tonight."

_The hawthorn wand. I must look amused as I remember how Draco bragged it was his wand that defeated the Dark Lord. I cannot wipe a smirk from my face._

"What?" _Draco demands. I decide I should lead away from the reason for my smirk. It wouldn't do good to set myself against Draco, who I really rather like. I remember his perfectly stewed horned slugs in his first ever Potions class with me._

"I am merely finding the taste in decoration amusing, Not something one would expect from Sirius Black before the end of the war. Before even one year ago, I assisted, but even that does not explain the proliferation of tinsel snakes and emerald baubles."

 _Draco smirks too._ “From what Astoria's mother tells me, you had quite a hate/hate relationship. She was at school with you, you know. What makes you think you can trust him? I don't know much about him, I'm here out of respect for my mother. And you.”

"Come, Draco. I shall show you the tree we both grow from."

I make to lead him to the tapestry.

"I'd be glad to see it, Headmaster. Each tree has its own...angle."

_That smirk again. I like that he's sceptical. Less self-concerned but more self-esteem, if that makes sense outside my head._

_Draco follows me into the room with its tree, and we are just having a good discussion of Draco's relation to Sayla Flint when we are interrupted._

Hermione steps toward us with a deliberately annoyed look on her face.

"Headmaster Snape,” _she says, ignoring Draco. It's a party and she actually knows how to curtsy. I give her an irritable bow and keep my eyes on hers._ "What have you done to Sirius? Is it a charm? If it is..."

"No more charm than you exert on me." _I deadpan._ "Absolutely nothing. We wrote letters. We came to understand we have certain things in common. Sirius is coming to himself and I encourage it, if not always openly. I consider him a friend."

The woman is just as impossible as she was at school. I wonder if she can listen to reason without inserting her own brand of reason – logic hampered by the eternal 'bleeding heart' that is colder than chilled steel.

Hermione just mouths like a fish out of water.

"I am just showing Draco the tapestry, _" I say the obvious. I hate the necessity of a gathering. But I'll act the guest and yes, Andromeda, watch out for and help Sirius._

"It's hard to avoid the stupid tapestry. I wish I could," _Hermione mutters. I turn to Draco who was sneaking away._

"Mr Malfoy, I think you know Mrs Weasley."

Draco looks uncomfortable. They have to stop glaring daggers at each other for Sirius' sake.

"I believe you were in the same year, if different houses, that you are not enemies any longer and are both adult enough to realise this is neither school nor games of dark wizards?"

_Draco and Hermione both mutter without looking at each other._

"It would be good if you both heed my advice and be civil where Sirius is concerned. And everything tonight is concerned with Sirius."

_I'm still taller than both of them and I lean menacingly toward them. Draco steps back. Hermione flushes and holds her place. Typical._

"Headmaster, how can you say you're Sirius' friend?" _Hermione demands._

"The same way I can say I passed my Clearance. I am not two dimensional, I am not a cliché villain, no matter what you may desire to believe. Civility is all I ask. You may follow my lead and dwell on the edges. Just keep your pitchfork away from the proceedings."

_She's acting like a medieval Muggle. Why not say what is on my mind? She brings out the worst in me. I wish she would regrow the huge incisors my friend Draco made grow so many years ago.  
_

"I'll..." _she splutters, and Draco laughs at the thought of Hermione with a pitchfork, I can see him snicker.  He knows I mean Muggles._

"My pitchfork? I'm sorry Headmaster, but you're being unreasonable."

"As always," _I say in a low tone._

_I look for a reason to stop talking but Andromeda comes into the room, one arm around Narcissa's waist, the other waving her invitation. She smiles more happily than I ever remember her being, Narcissa that is. I am so used to her dour expression that her  smiling makes me less irritated at being asked to come in to dinner, "if you didn't hear Sirius announce it ten minutes ago."_


	48. Sirius: Christmas Dinner

_~Sirius~_

_Kreacher has seen to it that everybody has his glass filled. Grandfather Arcturus always said a hand which holds a goblet can't yield a wand. It doesn't mean anything that Severus, Draco, me and Harry hold ours with the left hand._

_It's time to feed them. Andromeda got my questioning look and so has Kreacher. He had locked the door to the dining room hours ago. We had heard shoving, clanking and clinking and very strange versions of Christmas carols, all the while we were chatting and Teddy made friends with Alexi._

_'We' means Andromeda and me. Severus was very quiet, but again he made an effort not to appear too annoyed. He actually smiled once or twice at Alexi and Teddy, secretly. I guess he thinks three is a crowd. I finally suggested browsing through the book shelves. An offer he gladly accepted and for the last hour before we went to change into our dress robes, he looked almost happy._

_Andromeda stands up and waves to Kreacher who with a gesture of importance makes the doors slide open._

_Merlin! Salazar! Godric! What...??? I close my eyes and a soft voice beside me whispers:_ “Who needs a disco ball?”

_Rainbow-coloured reflections from the crystal chandelier dance all over walls, cabinets and our faces. The table glitters from polished silver and even more crystal._

“Pinch me. I need assurance that the elf went mad not me.”

“Ouch!” _Severus obliges to my request with much more enthusiasm than I deem necessary. Whatever! It ended the spell. It was just a spell. The dining room and dining table have returned to a rather normal, inviting look. What seemed about a thousand flickering candles are now just bright, warm lights which allow a closer look to what really counts, the wonderful feast. Kreacher is beaming and twinkles mischievously when I pass him, leading Andromeda to her seat. I pull his ear and he purrs._

_Each plate has a name in silver letters hovering above it. The letters disappear when the right person is seated. Kreacher has put some thought in the arrangements. Is it possible to divide one table into two house tables? Obviously, with house elf cunning. I'm placed right in the centre, like a spider in its web. I feel more like being caught between a rock and a hard place._

“Make you robes imperturbable. Teddy likes to mess with his food.” _Andromeda whispers leaning over the old wooden highchair she has put him in._

 

_“I remember. Harry was the same.”_

“He has grown out of it by now.”

_I know. Harry has grown out of everything I remember, while I was …. unavailable._

_Everyone seems to be looking at me and I realise to my shock that they expect me to make a toast, probably a little speech._

“I'd like to thank you all for following my invitation to this little party. It's the time of the year one should spend with friends and family. The time to forget about petty disagreements and be happy together.”

_At the mention of family there's a murmur at one end of the table, shut down by a deadly glare from Arthur._

“It's also the time to remember those who can't be gathered at this table, but still are with us in our hearts. To love and peace and Christmas. To being alive!”

_We raise our glasses and drink, all of us. There's a short silence because every single one of us thinks of somebody who isn't with us anymore. Then Arthur raises his glass again and looks at Harry and me._

“ To James Potter!”

_I repeat his toast._

“James Potter, the best friend a boy could have!”

_None of them seems to have noticed the... slip. I wish one person has. Severus' face doesn't move at all, but he sips his wine, just like Narcissa and Draco. Slytherins, trained to keep countenance, don't offend the ones in charge for no good reason._

_Ginny has taken Harry's arm._ “Lily Potter!”

_More names are called, repeated, glasses raised._

_“Remus and Nymphadora Lupin!”_

__Andromeda's hand is shaking. I take it and notice that Narcissa has done the same with her other hand._ _

_“Gideon and Fabian Prewett!”_

_“Fred Weasley!”_

_“Ted Tonks!”_

_“Alastor Moody!”_

__At last, a soft voice used to get attention without being raised rings over the table and wakes those of us who were lost in memories:_ “Regulus Arcturus Black” _

__For the first time this evening the voices from my left can be heard over the rumbling murmurs from the other side. One or two faces in front of me even look confused. Why honour the name of a boy Death Eater? He was only a Slytherin who merely possessed the decency to die before he committed a crime. Kreacher is standing in a corner. He has tears in his eyes and glares balefully at those who have forgotten his beloved master._ _

__We should be done now. Time to get on with the more delightful part. I'm about to rise to cut the roast in front of me. Harry beats me to it, rising from his seat to bring out one final toast._ _

_“To Albus Dumbledore, a kind man and great sorcerer whose loving care for all of us we will never forget!”_

__I feel a cold, sharp stab. Something hits the table with a clinking sound. The white linen turns red. The stem of the wine glass I've snapped in two has pierced my palm. Blood runs down my hand, drips on the table and mingles with the wine. Blood spilt in the old man's name; names and faces of the dead._ _

__Someone has grabbed my hand. A spell is whispered; the wound closes._ _

_“Really, Black, there was no need to make such a mess in your enthusiasm to honour our late headmaster. You're obviously more used to dog bowls than crystal.”_

__Severus!_ “Get a grip, Sirius. You frighten little Teddy.” , _he whispers, his own grip on my hand is not loosened. I listen to his voice which seems the only real thing amid all the blood... no, the wine which Andromeda vanishes. Severus presses the repaired and refilled glass in my hand._ _

_“Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore!” _ _,he says and drains his glass. My eyes still fixed on his I follow his example.___

___Harry watches me. I force a broad grin and shrug apologetically._ _ _

__“I am really a bit out off practise with social events.”_ _

___I'm not sure he believes me, Arthur clearly doesn't and Draco whispers with Narcissa._ _ _

__“ You certainly are, Sirius. A most neglectful host, get a move and cut the roast. We're starving.” _Andromeda's cheerful snub causes nervous laughter.__ _

___I can only hope that Kreacher's culinary skills work magic and make them forget the accident. I do my best to act as if nothing has happened. Teddy is a great help. We make peas and carrots march around his plate. Little Vicky starts whining until her father does the same for her. Andromeda and Fleur pretend to be annoyed, but then they laugh and as long as the marching vegetables end on the spoons and the spoons reach the kids' open mouths, they don't really mind. Andromeda tells a story about Tonks at that age and Fleur continues with one about her little sister. Severus watches us like we are some kind of exotic insects he has never seen before. Everyone else remembers a similar story of their children or younger siblings. Even Narcissa has something to tell about poor Draco. Get used to family gatherings, cousin. It's my turn next. Andromeda and Narcissa recount some of my sins. Not that one, Andy, no, have mercy! Bill and Percy can add some very good ones, of course. We're lucky that Ron and Ginny can't hear what they are saying._ _ _

___On my right the conversation is as lively, but less fun._ _ _

__“... that greasy git hasn't changed at all. Telling off Sirius like he's one of his students. Why does Sirius let him?”_ _

__“Ron, I don't think ….” _I can't understand what Hermione doesn't think because a humming fills my ears. Muffliato, Lily has taught us the spell I now know Severus has invented. I curse Severus' carelessness with his notes and their audacity to use his spell against me in my own house.__ _

___I seek Severus' eyes to reassure him. I'm fine; I won't lose my nerves again._ _ _

___Harry is talking to me._ _ _

__“Pardon? You were saying...?”_ _

__“I was saying that Kreacher has done a great job with the dinner. We were a bit worried when Hermione told us about the tea.”_ _

__“Kreacher, yes, he's been a great help. As I've already told Hermione we managed to put aside the misunderstandings of the past. I apologised to him and he accepted.”_ _

__“You! Apologized? But he hated you, he betrayed you to your...”_ _

“Death? I'm alive, so he didn't really cause any harm. He was misguided. He believed he was doing what Regulus would have wanted him to do. You know he loved my brother and Regulus loved him. Look, when Kreacher called me a blood traitor, he wasn't talking Death Eater politics. He accused me of letting down Regulus, of not being there, when my brother needed me. Regulus and I weren't enemies. Not even after we joined different sides. We just believed we had to be.”

__How much I wish I could make him understand. That Regulus was a good lad, that he joined Voldemort because he was. I was a stupid, self-centered, arrogant prat who believed that Regulus had sided against me when he was sorted into Slytherin. Our choices show who we truly are, but Regulus choice didn't mean that he was a racist Dark Wizard. It simply meant that he loved our parents. He tried to tell me, but I refused to listen._ _

“You are not trying to do anything... stupid, are you? I mean, befriending Snape, reconciling with Kreacher, your sudden fondness of your family. You're not hoping that they know some secrets to help you bring back your brother?”

_So that's what he is thinking? I'm a Black, we're all Dark Wizards in the end. He really doesn't understand. He really doesn't know me at all._

“You must think I'm raving mad. There's no magic, Dark or other to bring back the dead. Why on earth should I want to make a walking corpse of my brother's remains? Why should Severus agree to assist me in such an abomination? What makes you think that I need him to do Dark magic anyway? “ _Harry flinches at my words._ “I wish to bring Regulus home to bury him in the family tomb. You can help me. I'm asking you one more time. Tell me where to find the cave, Harry.”

“My answer hasn't changed. The Ministry decided to keep those places secret for a reason. It's dangerous; they are full of traps and Dark Magic.”

“Then the last word is said about this matter.”

“Sirius, please understand that I can't make an exception for you.”

“I do understand. You have your priorities. I have mine. I will continue to search for that cave like I've done since you've told me how Regulus died. That you refuse to help me and used your Auror's privileges to erase my house elf's memory makes it harder, but it won't stop me.”

“You've ordered Kreacher to tell you about the cave?”

“No, I haven't. I expected that you tried to keep him from giving me information and I respect Regulus' wishes that Kreacher should not come to any harm. Are you aware that Kreacher might have tried to kill himself for being unable to obey a direct order from his master?”

“I didn't think...”

“No, of course not.”

_Harry looks really sorry. They did not think about the consequences for Kreacher. I cannot blame them. We weren't any better at their age, but they cannot expect me to still see things the same._

“You have my word that I won't pester you about this anymore and I solemnly swear that neither Severus nor I feel any inclination to use Dark Arts. Let's just stop and enjoy the party. It's Christmas after all.”

_George is talking to Ginny about the new project he's been researching for a while. I'm very interested. He cheekily hesitates to answer my question about his progress._

“I don't know if I should tell you anything at all now that you've changed sides.”

“Changed sides?” _Not him, too._

“Rumour has it you're becoming a Hogwarts teacher, natural enemy of my trade. You already know more about our products than is good for the business.”

_I burst out in laughter._

“Of course, I've planned to dedicate one whole term to Defence against Weasley Wheezes.”

“Unfair use of insider knowledge!” _George protests in mock despair._

“Merely self preservation!” _I reply._

_The rest of the dinner drowns in even more small talk. I'd rather talk to Severus, tell him that I won't mess up again. His presence at my side raises enough unwanted suspicion. We can't cast another Muffliato._

_Kreacher passes by. I stop him to whisper in his ear when to pass a fake message to Severus to call him back to Hogwarts. Presents will be postponed until after our little trick._

 


	49. Severus: Dinner

_~Severus~_

_Things are changing around the table. Teddy seems attracted to Narcissa and Draco wants to retreat to his mother's other side in a jealous snit, asking tensely if he can take my place when I vacate it to deal with Sirius' mess. The literal bloody mess. Even I can toast Dumbledore if such tactics are needed. I appreciated the “boy” remark. Now I've pulled a chair from a corner and sit where Teddy's ancient wooden high chair sat. I sit next to Sirius and does the Gryffindor end ever look uncomfortable with this. They are discomfited simply to be in the same room as Draco and Narcissa and I. Andromeda they seem to merely avoid as if she is the conduit for some force that would unite the houses. There will be no chance of that. We do not find the same trouble with them. And I am sitting next to my friend, and he next to me._

_If I did not have any self-restraint I would roll my eyes at the guests' antics. Percy was predictable. No trouble listening to Ministry regulations and media uproars and his suggestions to whatever authority. I stare away, thinking of what is yet to be done. The roast is being carved and Sirius is botching it. I give him a lopsided smirk and he gives me his most exasperated glare. Too butchered the beginning. Too thick the slices. Arthur asks oh so helpfully if he should help carve that huge roast turkey and receives a glare. I don't blame Sirius for the glare, I'm staring down Arthur myself._

“I think I know who should carve the turkey in the House of Black, Arthur, thank you very much,” _Sirius says moodily. Does he? Kreacher has put everything right. He's making quite a sow's ear of things. Not much of a dinner host, and blundering Gryffindors rub it in. I feel for his discomfort. Soon the moment is semi-forgotten as we pile our plates with food, passing back and forth this and that plate or condiment. Kreacher sneaks around being helpful but mistrusted by the ones who think themselves the most open-minded. They can't see anything. I will be very glad to get the dinner over with._

_I take a wing part and leave it untouched. The ham I tried, very tasty. And the gravy for my potatoes was a concoction that made me wonder about Kreacher's potion making skills... I blame the family stories chatted on every side on Kreacher's ability to set all at ease, and his work with both ends of the table, I see Harry switch places with Ginny so he can sit next to Sirius. Sirius nods at me and I go stand by Draco, joining in his apparent change of heart. He's transfiguring his ears into wings and makes them beat for Teddy, and Bill and Fleur really can't stop Vicky's amusement and longing. It's really quite interesting magic. I know Draco has the skill when he has the inclination._

_I watch Ronald carefully, Yes, the carrot-top is losing his hair, and that's easy to collect from the stitched back of the wood and fabric-backed chair. I can't see from here, but with luck, I won't need to enlist Sirius to somehow obtain a fragment for me. I try to pick up on Sirius' conversation with Harry. Harry who still has no idea what a doe can do to a person. I glean words and the name Regulus._

_I am drawing unwanted attention. Everyone is sitting but me. Luckily for me, for us, Ronald is on his third flagon of mead. Hermione looks irritated. She always does look irritated. The drinking will make the story so much more believable. Dinner is drawing to a close and I finger the jar of Polyjuice Potion in my deeply blood-hued robes. I can sit down or wander into the library and be alone, but I know I'm stuck here. Salazar, I mutter to my mind, let this be over soon. So much bustle – I always loathed it as a teacher, Sirius stands, and the table is hushed almost as quickly as the former Headmaster silencing the Great Hall. I take Draco's empty seat, and Andromeda sits next to Sirius. We all wait for the shaggy man to speak. Presents?_


	50. Severus/Sirius: Polyjuice

_~Severus~_

"Draco," _I whisper, and the pale young man looks up._ "There's going to be a lot of subterfuge going on tonight. It's a tricky situation. I'll have to disappear for a while, an hour or two, I just ask you to sit tight until I return. Believe me, I'll be taking more than points from Gryffindor, and in a way, they are not expecting.”

_I smirk at Draco. He looks slightly nonplussed beneath his whitish hair. His blue gaze catches my eyes and he nods with a smirk identical to my own._

"Whatever you wish, Headmaster," _he says placidly._

"I've made Sirius a potion that will ensure the enemy notices nothing. Ignore Ronald Weasley. He's had four glasses of mead now. He's bound to act the idiot. Observe things carefully, but do not interfere. I'll explain later."

_I know Draco will watch Ronald like a hawk now. I give Draco a piercing look. He'll do as he's told. He was much more mature in Seventh year, and he is Lucius' son._

"I may need your input later."

_Give him a false mission and ensure his attention – and silence. In any case, the observations may come in handy. Draco sits taller with an expression of rapt attention on his face. It makes him look like a Slytherin Hermione. I close my expression even more than usual as Kreacher comes in with my tawny owl on his tiny, withered shoulder._

"Master Snape, you've had an owl. Take the letter if you please." _That bullfrog croak._

_I sweep over to Kreacher and thank him, and take my owl. I carefully remove the string from his scaled leg and the blank letter. He flies away to deal with the mouse in his beak._

"Damn," _I mutter in a tone that carries across the room without raising my voice._ "I'm going to have to return to Hogwarts for an hour or two. Urgent business. Excuse me."

_I extricate myself from the forest of chairs around the long table. I make my way to Sirius and under the guise of shaking hands upon leaving and slip a small phial of Sleeping Draught into his hand. He's subtle enough to lower his hands and let the potion drop lightly into his lap under the table._

_The dining group is suddenly quiet, except for Teddy and Vicky._

“What kind of urgent business?” _Harry asks inquisitively. Nosy as always. Ronald's eyes widen. Does he scent danger? No, he's just another brainless, drunken hanger-on. It will be so very amusing to speak Weasleytongue._

"As if it is your business, Potter. If you must know, I still won't tell you. Good evening."

_Hermione bristles. I watch Ronald whisper to Harry. I make my way to the kitchen and turn and lurk in the pantry, waiting for Ronald to move to the room where the Christmas pyramid is, and be given the potion. I lurk longer. I hear footsteps. I wait._

_~Sirius~_

_Kreacher acts faster than I expected and Severus takes his leave even faster leaving me to deal with strange looks and annoyed questions._

_Harry can be just as persistent as James, when he wants to know something._

_"Snape has told you. He must have. What can be so urgent that he leaves like that?"_

_"Do you really expect the headmaster to explain his comings and goings to me?” _"__

__Harry seems to ponder, whether I am being sarcastic or not._ _

_“I don't know more than you. Hogwarts business.”" _I shrug._ "Maybe some students broke into the potion stores.”"_

_Now he looks exasperated, but the worst thing he can accuse me of is a bad joke._

_I turn to all of them._

"It looks like we've all finished eating. Why don't we return to the drawing room and let the food settle a bit? Coffee or tea anyone? Or something stronger to help digestion? Kreacher....!"

_No need to call for him. Andromeda takes Narcissa and Draco by the arms and the other guests have no other choice than to follow._

_I've got to keep them busy and I already know how._

"I'm afraid there is a slight change of plans. I actually wanted to give you your presents after dinner, but now that Severus had to leave, I'd rather wait for his return. Unless anyone objects."

_I wink at Teddy who doesn't look too happy._

_"Of course the two most important guests don't have to wait for their presents."_

_A silent Accio and two large parcels appear under the tree. Teddy storms at his parcel and starts ripping off ribbon and paper. Bill carries Victoire to the tree and helps to opens hers. He carefully takes the puppet out of the box and makes it curtsey in front of a beaming Victoire._

"Une princesse! Cest jolie." _Fleur has joined them._

_Teddy has now managed to tear the box to pieces and squeals with glee._

"A dragon! A real dragon! It's moving. Look Granny, it can fly!"

_It actually can't, because Teddy is hopelessly entangled in the strings. I admit that's what I had hoped for. All adults gather around the little ones and try to help them to make the puppets move._

_All adults except Ron who I take by the arm._

_"If you don't mind, I need your assistance with your father's present."_

_He seems to be a bit surprised and looks for Harry, but Harry is helping his godson to make the dragonfly. Hermione explains to everyone how Muggle puppets work without magic._

"All right, what can I do for you?"

"Just follow me. Have I told you that Kreacher has recovered the keys to the wine cellar? Ever tasted a 20-year-old Ogden's single malt?"

_~Severus~_

_Sirius whistles “Silent Night” and that is my cue to enter the pyramid room. Ronald is asleep on the couch, I wish fervently that he wakes up with a blasting hangover and a hazy memory._

_Sirius is grinning at me, holding out three ginger hairs, thankfully not Crookshanks' fur. I snatch them up and slip them into my two hour supply of Polyjuice potion. I take half of it. I'll keep the rest of the potion on my person. If need be I can excuse myself to use the toilet and take the rest. The effect is quite as disgusting as I recall it being the time I sneaked into the Gryffindor common room in Third year. That time I was impressing a girl. This seems more legitimate. I catch myself in the mirror. I am a double of the most annoying Weasley in decades. Ronald is a medium build nowadays – he strains my blood-red robes. I take them off before they split, and leave Ronald in his knickers. It's hard to undress dead weight but Sirius helps._

_Sirius will ensure that no one will disturb Ronald in his sleep or me in my interrogation. In becoming Ronald, thank Salazar and Merlin, not for an extended period, I have to keep in mind that he is the dullard I taught Potions to and I know his general cadence of speech and the moronic level of language he uses. I have an advantage. He can make eye contact, and Harry can feel the drain in energy and the sudden flashes of insight in his mind's eye without me being suspect. I hope I can catch enough in one or two passes. I need to soften him up, lead him in his thoughts._

_I smirk at Sirius and slip out of the room. I “blunder” in character down the hall and back to the party. The table is deserted but for Draco. He appears to be doodling on a piece of parchment and throwing anxious glances at his mother. His eyes take in more than what they appear to, I can see him strain in his attempts to hear. He merely glances at me as I join the throng around Teddy and Vicky. Ginny is as entangled with the kids as they are with the puppet cords. Harry is grinning at Teddy but looks at me as I crouch next to him._

"Harry, mate," _I say,_ "I reckon Sirius has to be barking mad to have this party. A Black family party? Come on."

_My words run together. He's more and less of a challenge than I thought._

"I know, Ron. If I didn't know better, I'd say he was Imperiused. I asked Kreacher a few questions..."

"Jus' now?" _I slur. I do not show concern._

"Yeah. He says Sirius and Snape were pen pals for a long time, and they're friends, and that he likes Snape. Kreacher I mean. But all this...family nonsense. It's like a pureblood picnic. You know, maybe he's changed a bit. The Headmaster."

"Poisonous toadstools don't change their ssspotsss."

_I look at Harry, right at him, but not keeping eye contact longer than necessary. Then I drop a bit of bait._

"Did you hear him give a toast to that Death Eater kid that snuffed it in that cave place? R.A.B? Why toast a dead Death Eater if you don't, you know, snog you-know-who's filthy old robes?"

_Harry looks amused and angry at the same time._

"I don't think Snape's interested in anything to do with Voldemort ... oh, I thought you were used to his name by now," _he says as I cringe._

 _I shrug loosely and say,_ "Sorry. Old habit."

 _He nods and continues._ "But I do think he could still use Dark magic for his own gain. But Sirius is acting freely, he's delusional maybe, but not Imperiused or Confunded."

_My blood boils beneath my red hair. I feel the heat in my ears and know they must be turning red. I try to get back on topic of the cave. Harry does it for me._

"You know, even Sirius is asking about Regulus."

"R.A.B?" _I ask hazily as if through a stream of alcohol._

“Yeah, his brother." _Harry nods seriously, shushing Ginny as she tries to draw him back into the crowd._

"What? Why would he do that?" _I go for the gormless expression I used to see on Crabbe or Goyle, whether student or Death Eater. I decide to drop the next bait._

"Think about it, that stupid kid snuffed it right there in that cave..." _And a non-verbal **Legilimens!**_

"If he were a stupid kid we wouldn't have found that Horcr..."

_I meet his horridly Lily-like green eyes and he stops in mid-sentence. I feel the sense of power as my mind is linked to his thoughts, I can't control the images flashing at me. I can't pick and choose. But of what I am given, I know enough from experience how to separate the wheat from the chaff. It is second nature to me and I thank Salazar for having the ability._

_I don't use Legilimency without cause. And this is a good cause._

__  
_Ginny here. Ginny there. Childhood trauma, oh dear me. If the man's mind were any more mediocre... odd flashes of Voldemort, and Horcruxes...here we come..._   


_A folded letter in a locket...the image hazy around the edges then suddenly sharp..._

_People I don't know well at the Ministry. An underground lake. Ginny, naked. Ron and Hermione arguing. Umbridge being sacked from the Ministry. His father, a picture of him._

_Nausea on my part, and nausea on his part for this extended Legilimency._

_The dark and green-lit lake, a cliff, an outcropping with a dirty, small, dingy sign **Crescent Cliff 2 miles.** A cave. Inside my heart is racing and thundering._

_I lessen my control of the connection and ease it slowly into disconnection. Harry shakes his head. I smile at him. Potter, Severus Snape actually spared you a smile. I planned to enjoy this session of Weasleytongue but I must thank Harry Potter for his help...unwitting and unwilling as it is. I have to draw the least attention possible. I turn to look at Draco._

_He's staring. I stand and say “'Scuse me, Harry, mate,” and walk over to the table, and pick up the bottle of Odgen's. Harry smiles back at me and turns to Ginny, apparently unaware of the invasion. I smirk at Draco who is tight-lipped. I very obviously shove the mickey of fire-whiskey into my pocket. It was a good year. I blunder cunningly off to the kitchen and wait for the effect of the Polyjuice potion to wear off. I can hear the guests' chatter and am so grateful of a reason to leave the dining chamber. Half an hour...only twenty minutes of being a ginger, fifteen minutes –the Weasley has to put up with this all the time. My body is unnaturally heavy – no need to blunder that cunningly when I can barely tell where my knees and elbows are._

_It's almost time for the presents, an empty pastime for one the likes of me._

_Finally I am black to myself – er, back to myself. Ronald s not as tall as I am but certainly a stronger build. He has to have one minuscule good attribute I suppose..._

_I grit and grind my teeth, knowing the presents are coming. Please do not let there be a gift from the Malfoys. Arthur would examine it for hidden qualities and he is not quite the fool he sets himself out to be. He has good deductive powers – except when it comes to Muggleomania. I wish I had a Muggle-worthy excuse committee on hand to deal with the Suspicious Gryffindor excuse committee._

__  
_Sirius looks away as I change back into my robes. I cover what is left of my mark and dress quickly. We pull Ron, the “poor victim of well-aged whisky” here and there to put his clothing back on. I make sure to leave him with a wedgie, which I think Sirius appreciated._   


_For the opening of gifts the table becomes less crowded as people draw their chairs out and circle the tree. All those tinsel snakes, it was Sirius' idea, many baubles, two presents from me under the tree- one for Sirius and one for Draco. Alexi is making friends. Something she can do and I cannot – at the least without over thirty nasty letters meant to work out differences. I am glad we are different. It may come in ... useful._


	51. Sirius/Severus: Presents

~Sirius~

_A crowd gathers round the tree to collect their present, except Harry who stays behind._

“Sirius, we thought you'd spent real Christmas with us. We haven't brought your present.”

“Never mind. I can wait another day. It's so much fun to give all of you presents today, just like in the old days.”

“It really means something to you, doesn't it? I never knew that you missed your family. I thought I am – we are your family now, just like you said my father and his parents became family after you ran away.” _He looks insulted._

“But you are. You always will be. That doesn't mean they are not. We all are family.” _I glance over to the tapestry._

“There's no need to remind my that I may be related to the Malfoys or...”

“You can deny that you are. Your grandmother was a Black, so was Arthur's mother by the way. Severus comes from a sideline, but he is on the tree. Can't you see that it proves them wrong not us?”

“Ron will be delighted to hear he's Malfoy's cousin. Where is he....?” _Harry looks around._

_I try to look guilty._

“He helped me with assembling Arthur's present. Maybe I need your help to reassemble him now.”

_Harry frowns, but he follows me to the kitchen._

_We open the backroom where Ron lies snoring._

“What happened to him?”

“We had one or two of my father's finest while we put together the Christmas pyramid and it seemed that it was a bit too much for Ronald.” _I shrug._

“Hermione and Molly will be at your throat.... and his, when they find out.”

“We could ask Severus for a potion to remedy Ron's condition.”

“I don't think we need Snape to get him back on his feet.” _Harry snaps._

“Arguamenti!”

_The cold shower wakes Ron who shakes his head, groans and blinks at us._

“Wherr'am I?”

“Where listening to my good-for-nothing godfather gets you.”

_I stare at the ceiling and whistle not so innocently._

“Help me to get him up to a chair. Kreacher!”

 _The elf appears in an instant._ “Yes Master Harry, sir?”

“Coffee, black without.”

_Kreacher looks for my approval and scurries out._

_We force-feed Ron three cups and he slowly recovers to an acceptable state._

“Do you think we can return to the others now? They'll start wondering where we are.”

 _Ron nods._ “I'm all right.”

_Back in the drawing room we place Ron into an armchair. I summon his present and shove the roll of parchment in his hands._

“Merry Christmas, Ron.”

_Harry stays with him while I am confronted with cheerful gratitude from all sides. The Muggle items caused sheer joy with their recipients._

_Arthur is delighted by all the tiny details of the pyramid. I show him how to change the speed of the turning platforms by changing the angle of the vanes and promise him to explain the meaning of the little dolls later._

_I can't see Severus. He obviously managed to disappear in a dark corner. I really hope he likes the present. There's one I decided to deliver in person. It's a bit of a delicate matter and needs an explanation._

_I pass the jewellery box to Andromeda. She gasps as she opens it. Narcissa seems positively shocked._

“Sirius, I can't accept that. This is impossible.”

“You must accept it. There's no other way.”

“But Sirius, this is...”

“A beautiful trifle for an wonderful woman. No strings attached. I know your answer hasn't changed and that's all right with me. I'm not asking again.”

_Narcissa seems perplexed by my insinuation. Regulus obviously hasn't shared the secret of my childhood courtship._

“Allow me...”

_I pick up the necklace and place it around her neck. It fits her perfectly. Of course, it does. The five rows of black pearls lie smoothly on her white skin. The cameo with the Black family crest glows slightly. It greets its rightful owner._

_Andromeda still tries to protest._

“They should go to your...”

“May I remind you that I don't have a wife and there's none in sight. Not that I'm looking for one. Pearls must be worn or they loose their shine. You are the female head of the House of Black and there hasn't been a more beautiful bearer in centuries. Shut up and don't spoil my joy in seeing them on you. In the unlikely case that there will be a Mrs Black in the future who wants to wear the pearls, you can always give them to her. Is this acceptable? ”

“Andy, Sirius is probably right. He will be hard put to find anyone else whom the pearls accept anyway.”

_I can't help but smile. A leopard doesn't change its spots. I guess she's right, though the pearls may be more tolerant than she thinks or at least bows to my will. I can't imagine any woman to wear them other than Andromeda._

_Andromeda resigns. Narcissa has something else on her mind. She is fingering her present nervously, the snowflake brooch she always wanted as long as I can remember._

“I never thought you'd remember and be willing to give it to me. Your mother always refused to part with it.”

“I have a very good memory for almost everything.” _She cringes because she senses that I know it was her Kreacher went to to betray me._ ”You are mistaken by the way. My mother would have given it to you at your wedding, but Abraxas Malfoy came here and tried to buy it. You haven't gotten it back then because there are things not even Malfoy money can buy.”

“Not forgotten, but forgiven perhaps? I wish we could put those times and our errors behind.”

“As far as I'm concerned you haven't personally caused any lasting damage, Cousin.”

_I bow and kiss her hand softly. I think I can feel the eyes of the other guests bore into my back._

_Draco who didn't get half of what was going on, moves closer to thank me for his pocket watch and asks the unavoidable question._

”What does it do?”

 _I twinkle at Narcissa and answer._ “It tells you the time until you see your love again. Ask your father how very useful it is to know, instead of having to wait endlessly in front of her door until she gets dressed. Is the wooden flooring in the corridor still in need of repair from Lucius' pacing?”

_Draco looks slightly confused, but as his mother starts to giggle, he seems to be contend._

__~Severus~_ _

__I have moved to a chair overshadowed by the tree, a place that will not draw too many stares. I am close to the action, hidden in plain sight. I am observing people and occasionally letting my mind wander when things get too tedious. Draco finally spots me and sneaks over to me far too obvious for my taste. Fortunately, no one else seems to have seen me return._ _ ____

_“Headmaster, is the hidden work over with and accomplished? I know you were doing something with Ron Weasley and Sirius Black. I am going to have chat with Black. He seems a decent bloke. At least he's invited us and isn't fucking glaring at us like the rest the effing Gryffindors. How to create House rivalry at a single table with Black to juggle the pieces. His elf's done admirably.”_ ____

__I evade the answer with a comment._ “Your father would not appreciate that language.” _I smirk. Draco knows I'm not scolding him. I let him get away with far more in my Potions classes.__

_“You'd be surprised at the things my father is capable of.” _Draco looks disdainful.__

_“Really?” _The sardonic tone from my voice is very, very hard to miss. Draco is silent for a moment, then says,_ “Oh yes, I didn't think...”_

_“That's hardly a surprise,” _I snort. He looks offended. I reach out and put a hand on his shoulder as a gesture of amused friendship. Draco's face is slightly pink and he looks away, then back at me._ _

_“May I call you Severus like you suggested earlier?" _I withdraw my hand, and he winces as if I am forcing him away. I need people like Draco on my side – but the force-fed friendly shoulder grasp did mean something beyond being prudent. I like the man, much preferable to his father. I turn in my seat as Harry and Ronald enter the room with Sirius. It is time for the present-opening.__

_“Certainly” _I say_. "And don't think of trying to use your poor knowledge of any espionage tonight too much to your advantage. I won't think too highly of, let's say, blackmail or coercion.” _I give him a smile that is slightly forced but still real._ ”It's time to open the presents, I see.” _The crowd is gathering around the tree for the presents Sirius gave them. I have a present for Sirius, Draco and that is all._ _

____Ronald is nearly knocking me over in his enthusiasm. He looks a little hazy and a bit blinded by the brightness of the scene. Perhaps he does have a hazy memory and a blinding hangover, as I so fervently wished. I allow him to see my best poker-face as I duck away from him and follow Draco over to his mother, who is standing stock-still in her stockings. Her glittering dress robes of shiny gold are dull compared to her face. Shock and elation. I am curious and walk with Draco to her._ _

__She holds a snowflake brooch of extreme age and value, one of the items not passed down easily or given away without a fight. It's the nature of the enchantment on it. My own mother had her eye on it and told me about its qualities so long ago. It has to be given one hundred percent freely or it can't be given away. I wish I remembered more about it. Mum even made a drawing of it, and here it is._ _

____Narcissa would look like the happiest woman in the room were it not for her sister, standing next to Sirius and glowing as she held a necklace of dark pearls, shimmering like so many dangerous eyes. Draco unwraps his present from me, and quickly afterwards a present from Sirius. I don't know why Sirius would give Draco a watch. I gave him a pair of canaries, enchanted to sing a different type of song every day. It's a present for him and Astoria, really. I won't explain the birds. He will find out soon enough._ _

___“Thank you for the present ... Severus,” _Draco says glibly_. “I got you an item no longer sold at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, which may come in handy. When we found out it was to be completely banned we – father and I – stocked up our stores. Here is a full pound of Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder. It's all I could think of ... we don't even have the Hand of Glory anymore. _” A petulant pout that I always enjoyed at Hogwarts. Such the spoilt Malfoy. For some reason that looks of ambiguous displeasure rubs my mind's fur the right way.__

_“Because we all know no one would expect a Malfoy to have anything banned in a house full of Potters and Granger-Weasleys?” _The snark is unbearable to him_._

__Draco pouts some more._ “I didn't expect **them** to be here.”_

_“ They feel much the same way about us.” _I nod. I smirk at him and he wanders toward Sirius, obviously wondering about his gift. Hermione rushes past with her eyes on fire. Like any Muddleborn suits that look.__

__I really do loathe Hermione Weasley and I wish I could make her feel belittled again so she would remember what it feels like and wouldn't be so enthused with repressing Slytherins and purebloods. Surely she knows what institutionalised reverse discrimination means? She's hugging a book. Sirius told me beforehand the book changes at every reading, perhaps revenge to keep her occupied with “Historia Magorum Britanniae,” - a thing that changes, like the interpretation of history itself changes. A smart present for the most intelligent dunderhead I can think of._ _

____ I wonder what is for me? I'll wait. Ronald is waving a paper excitedly.  _ _

_ “I always wanted my Patronus for real! A real crup puppy! I get to pick which one I want in a week or so!” _

____ Hermione's face seems caved in. _ “Ron...crups hate Muggles.” _

___“ What...we don't know any Muggles, do we?” _Ronald blurts out before thinking. I snicker softly and think revenge comes in unusual forms._ _

__George and Angelina Weasley are dancing in the only free space, in and out of a doorway. I know they'll go to Disneyland. What rot, but still better than Percy's gift which suits him perfectly – a silver inkwell stand. Rigid and boring and smug, in that preach-power-in-two-dimensions kind of way._ _

____Percy has no real ambition, just stiff delusions. Perhaps Audrey will make him more malleable with her present – an all-inclusive trip to romantic Paris on a bank holiday weekend. If you can stand the smell. The city is nothing more than an overlarge sewer system with magnificent architecture and art._ _

____I pick up my first gift for Sirius. He'll get the second one later. So the word is hurrying around the room like a disease from rat to rat that Sirius was – had been and is now – courting Andromeda. I scowl at this. My throat is tight and I loosen my collar. The feeling passes. I weave through people brusquely and go up to him. Harry and Ginny are standing there. Mr Mediocre and Mrs HarpiesPlayer are standing there, I should say. Ginny is running a comb through her hair, which is changing from blue to purple. She's having a lot of fun with the comb Sirius gave her that changes colour with her thoughts. Useless but interesting magic._ _

____Harry is holding a framed tapestry. My stomach truly lurches. It's Godric's Hollow, Lily's home, and in this image, you can see Lily and the idiot she chose for a husband waving. My insides have been mixed with cement. I hide the pain. All of a sudden – Sirius had not told me about that one gift. I sweep away as if I didn't notice but as I leave Harry catches my eye and we glare at each other, and I know he still sees me as complicit in her death – and James'. Damn you, Potter. Take a Potter to ruin an evening._ _

____I see Molly clutching her chest and I know that she's found the magical silver tree with portraits of all of the Weasley and their in-laws, which grows a new branch for each child born to the ... horde. She's weeping into her handkerchief. For once I wish Lupin was alive. He'd put an arm around her and do the emotional thing._ _

__ Bill is approaching me. I give him a warning glance. My I-don't-want-to-know-you look, which I hope I impressed on nearly everyone.  _ “U2!”  _ he cheers, oblivious to my glare. _ _

_“ Me too?” _I try not to look confused. I am trying! - trying! to get to Sirius, to relay what I learnt from the Legilimency and to give him his present and collect mine, and leave this room of milling friendly-to-some-degree people. I feel shut in. I remember about the rock concert. That Muggle band nearly everyone has heard of but me. Fleur is spinning like a Veela top in her exclusive hand-woven Indian silk shawl__

__ “ _ Of course,” _ I sneer. “ _ One has to keep up with Goblin tastes. They're the only one to listen to such.. _.”  _ _

__But I see Sirius and break off. He is holding a present for me, I a present for him. It seems to cement the time we've spent writing and in each others' company._ _

__ I give him his present.  _ “I'll give you your real present late, you'll know when it arrives. I know you must want it. But this might be as equally good, in its way.”  _ I hand him a small cylindrical tube. He opens it, ripping of the silver wrappings, letting the redcurrant coloured bow fall to the ground. I use Accio! on the rubbish and catch it, then banish it to a pile of wrappings near the fire. _ _

__ Sirius looks at me. _ “Who drew this?” _

____I answer._ “It's a travesty as far as art goes, as I did it myself, but what he writes in the picture retains his character. The problem is, he doesn't know anything past what his mind knew at fifteen. Ask him a question, and the sketch of him will write what Regulus would have written at fifteen. No luck with spying, unless you want to ask questions about his and your family.”_

____My sketch of Regulus, India ink on parchment, waves at me. I glance around, and no one is looking but Sirius, as Bill and Fleur are now step-dancing with George and Angelina and draw many eyes._ _

__I wave back._ _

_  
_


	52. Sirius/Severus: Too much?

~Sirius~

_I look at my little brother's face. He only turned fifteen after I left home. He smiles shyly at both of us. He didn't smile at me anymore at the time this was drawn. I remember that I still hold Severus' present. A book, he may think it's cold and impersonal in comparison with his gift. It is not. That book and it's hidden properties meant a lot to me, enough that father thought the promise of being allowed to read it could keep me with the family._

_Severus looks indeed a bit lost,_ “Works on Alchemy by Nicholas Flamel and Albus Dumbledore”.

_Regulus is scribbling something._

“You're still at it, Sirius? Severus, my insane brother wants you to search for the 'Useless Brew'”.

_I pass the message to Severus who raises his eyebrows. Of course, he has heard of the Useless Brew and doesn't believe in it._

“The Useless Brew? Aren't you a bit old for fairy tales?”

“Not too old to believe in magic. You'll find more useful things hidden in this book. This is the volume Flamel gave to Dumbledore. He has added a lot of secret spells and potions according to legend. Dumbledore preferred to keep to his own and gave this one to his old headmaster. If you happen to come across that one recipe, I'd like to know.”

“Want to meddle a bit with the Dark Arts?”

 _I laugh a sad laugh._ “It's not Dark. I don't want to make it. It's impossible to make anyway. I only want to know, if it exists.”

“Why haven't you searched the book yourself?”

_I look down. The truth is hard to admit._

“He's scared not to be able to find it. He's scared that True Love like that doesn't exist.” _, scribbles the sketch._

“The real potion of True Love, not the enslavement from Amortentia.” _Severus thinks aloud._ “ Completely useless, because only two people who already are truly in love working in perfect harmony can make and survive drinking it. Obviously, the makers don't need it. You are an incurable romantic fool.”

“As I said the book has more to offer than my childhood fantasy. I thought you might enjoy its secrets and have the mind required to find the hidden properties.”

_I don't tell him why I am scared not to be able to find it myself. The rumours said that Flamel put an extra ward on that recipe. Only someone who understands the true nature of the potion can find it. I've never been in love. Not like that, not even with Andromeda, whatever they think. I see how they look at the necklace._

“I think I've ruined Andromeda's reputation as a respected widow and grandmother.” _I sigh._

_Severus frowns slightly._

“Not you, too. I've given her the pearls because they are safe with her. There won't be any wife to wear them.”

_Regulus' portrait is tapping his pencil impatiently. He's feeling ignored. We turn our attention to him._

“Are you back for good now? How's Mum and Dad? They must be happy.”

_How can we explain twenty odd years and that almost everyone he knew is dead?_

“I'm sorry, Regulus; it's been many years. Mum and Dad are dead.”

_He looks so sad and lost. I wish I could comfort him. Then he smiles again._

“I understand. Many years, you both look old. But you're together? As friends?”

 _Severus answers, before I can._ “We're trying to...”

“Took you long enough.”

_I realise that even usually well-mannered dead little brothers are impertinent at fifteen._

“We've managed more than 24 hours without hexing and only minor name calling. Is that good enough for you?”

“Which one of you was stunned?” 

“None, we managed to grow up.”

“What about the others, Bella, Evan, Avery? I see Andy and Cissy over there. Where's Kreacher?”

“ Kreacher is fine. He's caring for the guests. Your cousins are dead. Avery is in Azkaban. The Dark Lord is dead, too.” _Severus explains._

 _Regulus stares at us._ “You haven't come home! You've taken over!”

_I remind myself that this is the boy who still believes the lies he's been fed all his life._

“Our side has won, yes. But I have come home!”

 _Regulus is still upset._ “What is HE doing here then?”

_We haven't noticed that Harry has come close and looks at the parchment we're holding._

“Reggie, this is not James. It's his son Harry. We told you it's been many years. May I introduce you? My brother Regulus. Harry Potter, my godson, son of James and Lily, ... Evans. James and Lily are also dead, killed by Voldemort.”

“Good riddance.”

_For a moment we are lost for words. Harry looks shocked._

“And I thought your brother was all right.”

_Severus flinches at his choice of words as much as I do._

“Mr Potter, this is a sketch, not a fully fledged portrait. Regulus Black can only express his thoughts as they were at the time it was drawn. He was fifteen and Sirius had just left a few months ago to live with your father.”

“Harry, please understand. He blamed James that I had left him. He was very angry. And he blamed your mother for.... well, he didn't think much of her neither.”

_-Severus-_

_Harry snorts, the insolent prat. His vapid brain's contents are so easily accessible. He gives me a glare reminiscent of his school days. Then he snaps at Sirius,_

__“ Can't you control him? Why enchant a sketch of family like _that_? I'd sooner carry a picture of Dudley at eleven.”

_Harry Potter has always gone against everything that I consider decency. We have a very different view of who and what is decent and why._

“Your mind is as blank and void as ever, Potter. Do not judge by the outward form. You have reason, no sense. You expect Regulus to cheer for your father just as he learns he is bereft of most of his friends and family and a cause he viewed worthy at the time?”

_Harry fires up at once._

“Don't sneer at me, Snape. You may have been a good spy, but you were the worst teacher, and you are still the most despised Headmaster since Slytherin himself.”

“Why thank you, Potter, for seeing what is worthy.”  _A faint smile curves my lips. Harry looks frustrated. He cannot make me shiver at the past more than he has tonight with the words aping his father. He insults the sensibilities of anyone who doesn't know that very sentence may have been the catalyst for Sirius being robbed from Slytherin house. Not that Sirius didn't have Gryffindor characteristics before, but they might have lain dormant. I stare through Harry into space, thinking._

_Tap. Tap. Regulus is looking impatient again. Harry leans closer, nosy as usual._

_He writes: “_ Earth to Severus, come in, Severus."  _What?_

“I know that spaced out look. Stop living in your head. I have a lot of questions, you know. What has happened to my future? It's all dark and twisted, these dead friends, my nearly obliterated family... what about Mum? I should be able to hear her cutting voice from a mile away.”

_He obviously missed Sirius telling him about his parents. The shock must be so great he can't take it all in at once._

_Regulus is crying. I turn away from the sketch so he can wipe his eyes on his ink and parchment robes. Harry says,_ “Your mother passed away. I don't know when, but someone did a horrible portrait of her. I'm sorry.”

"Go away, you dumbass Potter! I didn't want to hear it from _you_!” Regulus' angry tears are justified. 

“Regulus, I think you'd better have some peace. I'll go put you next to Phineas Nigellus' portrait and ask no one to disturb you. He can fill you in with better manners if a little tauntingly.” _Sirius smiles at his brother._ "I'll see you soon, I promise. Severus, would you help me with casting a Sticking Charm? It's been a long time since I last used one.” _Sirius rolls up the parchment and carefully tucks it under his arm._

_I know he wants to get me alone so I can relay the information I received from Harry about the cave. It's a clever ploy and Harry spares us an exasperated look, then gives in to Ginny dragging him by the sleeve over to the tree. Teddy's puppet has been untangled. I finger my wand and cast an Entwining Enchantment on the strings. They immediately bond and mesh, leaving the adults moaning and griping and Teddy in the middle, looking sad but happy at the renewed attention._

_We reach the portrait in the drawing room containing Phineas Nigellus. My interest is piqued. I wonder how to word the images I saw in Harry's mind. Distracted by speech, I snicker slightly as Regulus asks, “_ Who were the carrot tops? Prewetts?”

"Somewhat more annoying, they're Weasley combined with Prewett. Gideon and Fabian are dead. Our side did that.” _I pause and so does Sirius as Regulus says,_ “Damn, is there no more of anyone. I can't believe the war's over and I hardly got to do anything except die. How did that happen?”

“You did a lot more than die. Phineas will fill you in. I'll say this: you helped bring down the Dark Lord, you discovered the means of defeating him. You wouldn't let him play games with family... or immortality.” _Sirius gives me a look. Perhaps he doesn't want to start a conversation. He needs to get back to the guests, and I need to impart my more pressing information._

 _We choose a spot by the wall for Regulus' picture, right next to Phineas, who is absent from his frame. He could be anywhere in the house, or at Hogwarts. Sirius pulls off a Sticking Charm perfectly_ . 

“Had a bit of experience with that Charm, I just wanted to...”

“Get rid of Harry and let me pass on the essentials. In my, for lack of a better word, vision, I saw a sharp outline of the locket Horcrux, and an underground lake, lit green, and a cave with a sign not far from it, Crescent Cliff 2 Miles. The cliff itself and an outcropping. You've narrowed down the location?” I ask quietly.

“That is handy information, thanks, Severus. You're going to stay in Regulus' room? Go on up. You look completely harassed.”

_He looks past me without telling me where he and his blessed mind are going, Is it my business? I think he is eager for me to be gone, whether to another room or out of Grimmauld Place. We've had too much contact these past few days with each other and I suppose I get on his nerves. I narrow my eyes as Sirius stares away, obviously lost in thought._

“I'm planning to leave tonight, actually,” _I say in a low but quite audible voice. Sirius seems not to hear me. I may as well have told the window I am leaving. Sirius just gazes at the wall. Should I be happy that Sirius likes his present? Perhaps, but I just feel irritation.  
Phineas is back in his frame. I have to contain everything, repress everything that I could possibly feel. I don't want to know that I've grown attached to his clever blundering and hangdog look. That I do not need to know. I want him to make mewling noises at my feet, beg me not to go. I glare at him. _

“You're leaving? Is that what you said?” _he gestures faintly at the fireplace set into the wall, and I spy a silver snuffbox. It seems he is indicating for me to go use the floo powder._

“Glad to be shot of me _?” I snarl at him despite the guests' watching eyes. “_ Eager to let the snake loose? Go back to your happy blessed family, don't even **think** that I care where you are going and why! Why would a cunning serpent want to know what you keep from me? I would use spells of great complexity to take the information from you, perhaps bring you to your knees, were it not for the fact that you are a **friend**! Sirius Black still doesn't trust Severus Snape. Don't be in touch. And consider yourself a suspended member of the faculty of Hogwarts! ” _I spit._

_ Sirius looks bewildered and angry and hurt. I snatch the snuffbox from his hand, flip it open angrily and scatter some floo powder into the flames. They turn a brilliant green, an emerald green that no Gryffindor can understand, no matter what their pretence.  _

“Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts!” __I'm sniping at the flames as I step in and with a whooshing noise, I spin with my eyes half open. I throw out my hands to halt in the head's office. I just step out when I hear a snide voice, that of Phineas Nigellus.  
“ You really did the right thing,” _he says.  
I'm still holding the snuffbox, and Dumbledore and Flamel's book is clenched so very tightly in my left hand._

 


	53. Sirius: Alone

~Sirius~

 

_I stare at the flames which slowly turn from green to red and gold again. I don't understand what that was about. What did I miss? All I remember is that I have been wondering how to get rid of the other guests in the most decent way to give us time to talk with Reggie's portrait and plan our trip to the cave. Then there was this outbreak._

_He hasn't even said goodbye to the Malfoys who look quite nervous now._

“Don't even try to figure out what happened. That's Severus.” _, scribbles the portrait._

“Regulus, can you wait for me, until I have dealt with the living? And don't talk to anyone except Phineas, when or if he returns, please.”

“I'm just a Christmas present. I do as I'm told, brother.”

“Reggie, please.”

_He pouts._

_The others are discussing Severus' sudden exit. I overhear that they are surprised, but not really sorry. Andromeda tries to calm down Narcissa. She waves for me to assist her._

“No, really, I'm afraid we can't stay any longer. It's not just because Severus left.” _Narcissa turns to me as I draw nearer._ “Sirius, I have told Severus right from the beginning that we have to leave early. Lucius.... you know he's not well. He didn't want us to come at all.”

_I have heard enough rumours about Lucius' state. I don't like him and he has no reason to trust me, but his problems are of a nature I understand too well. I lay my hand on Andromeda's shoulder._

“Narcissa is right. We have to accept that she needs to go home now.” _I address Narcissa._ “ There's one more thing. Give me a minute. Kreacher!” _I whisper into his ear and Kreacher disappears for a moment to come back with something I wanted to give her all along. I pass her a small potion bottle._

“Give this to Lucius, thrice a day. I know it's Muggle stuff, but it helps. If Severus was still here, I'm sure he agreed.”

“St John's wort extract?”

“Take it. I've used it myself a few years ago. If Lucius gives you trouble, tell him not to let the Mudsquad win. He knows what I mean.”

_Narcissa clearly knows the word, too. She pockets the bottle._

“I don't understand what you're up to, Cousin, but Severus said you've changed your mind about certain things and I can trust you.”

“On the contrary, Narcissa, I haven't changed my mind about the important things at all. That's the problem. I hope to see all the family again very soon. Expect my owl within a few days.”

_She has noticed the emphasis I've put on the word family and looks at the other guests questioningly. I only smile and shake my head slightly._

_Andromeda has been listening carefully and as usual heard what has not been said. She takes my hand._

“You want to get rid of us, all of us, don't you? Do you need a hand in getting them moved?”

 _I grin sheepishly._ “”Is it so obvious? Any help to clear the coast would be welcome. In a nice way, if possible.”

“It's obvious enough to anyone who knows you. Leave it to me. “

_Kreacher has brought Narcissa's and Draco's cloaks in the meantime and informs us that he checked the floo connection to Malfoy Manor is free again._

_Draco takes the opportunity to talk to me while Andromeda and Narcissa say goodbye._

“Has the ploy you and Severus arranged with Weasley gone well?”

_I give the young man a sidewards look. I'd expected a bit more subtlety from Severus' godson._

“Do you expect any answer but 'I don't know what you're talking about'? Here it is. Don't talk about what you don't know.”

 _His reply trying to be a threat,_ “I could talk to Potter.” _, is a really bad imitation of his father._

“I'm sure Harry will be delighted to listen to you. Especially when you can't tell him anything he hasn't already figured out by himself. Contrary to what you think Harry is not a complete idiot. You're the Slytherin; I thought you knew which side your advantage lies. You can keep quiet which Severus and I will fondly remember or you can blab which will get you nothing from Harry and we won't forget easily.”

“Severus has told me to keep quiet and I will.”

“Good, Cousin. As for your family, don't worry about them. I don't bear any grudge against your mother …. and your father..... whatever he fancied himself to be; he's never been the worst of the lot.”

_The Malfoys are gone. I leave clearing the house of guests in a well- mannered way to Andromeda. Harry wants to talk, but I avoid him by starting some casual conversation with Arthur and Molly. I still don't fully understand why Severus has left so suddenly and I surely don't want to hear Harry's opinion on the matter or worse his opinion on my brother's portrait self._

_I'm a bit worried because what I said to Draco is true Harry isn't an idiot. He will figure out what we did very soon. I'm running out off time and Severus made clear that he considers his part done._

_Molly is delighted about her family tree. She already imagines it growing and blooming with new branches. I hope they don't need to enhance the Burrow to house the tree in a few years._

_I had hoped that we could go together bringing home Regulus. I wish I had been able to stop him from leaving. I really hoped he would give us a chance, but this was probably asking too much too soon. I only vaguely notice that Andromeda has been successful. There is some talk about the children needing to go to bed and that it is almost midnight. Tomorrow there will be a second family party at the Burrow, Christmas Eve, nice people only. I have promised to attend and confirm it again to Arthur. I feel like I'm lying to him. I don't know if I will be able to come. My mind is made up; I'll be going to the cave tomorrow. Regulus will be home for Christmas._

_I tell them goodbye mechanically. They notice; I don't care. There will be time to explain when I'm back. If I don't return, it doesn't matter anyway. Why can't I get the thought of no return out of my head? I've come back from places worse than a cave with a few magic traps. Does it make a difference that this time I really want to come back? I want to live._

_They are all gone. Andromeda came close to pushing Harry into the fire._

“You promise not to do anything stupid, do you?”

“Why is it that everybody believes I'm doing stupid things when left to my own devices?” _She smiles._ “All right, don't answer. I promise. I've never intended to do anything stupid anyway.”

_Andromeda doesn't reply; she just gives me a hug, takes up the sleeping Teddy and leaves. I sigh with relief. Alone at last and only a few things to prepare for tomorrow. The risk is half the fun, isn't it? I always wanted to share the fun with friends. If he was alive James had been with me now, perhaps more eager to start the adventure than I am. He wouldn't have cared for the cause, only for the excitement. I suddenly realise that I don't regret he's not here. The friend I wish at my side tomorrow is Severus, but he is Regulus' friend, not mine. I didn't get half of what he said before leaving, only that he wanted to leave and I had no right to beg him to stay. Fine, go, you have shown enough loyalty to a dead friend. You can't waste any more of your time to keep a Gryffindor company._

_I am unfair. Why should he want to be my friend? Just because Regulus wanted us to be friends? Just because I want us to be friends? I have nearly killed him. Why should he risk his life or his health again on my word? I don't need him to do the job; I only want him to be with me. Why should he care that his company makes me happy?_

_Get going, Sirius, you need some sleep tonight. I write two letters. One to Severus, Kreacher can sneak it into the book and Phineas can inform Severus tomorrow afternoon when everything is already done. One to Harry, just in case, I leave it here on the table. I don't want Severus to be blamed should anything go wrong._

_Kreacher Apparates to Hogwarts and will find a way to hide the letter. Phineas calls me a reckless fool. I can only hope he will do me the favour I've asked for._

_Regulus' portrait is deep in thought. He needs time to understand what Phineas has told him. He's only a portrait, but he knows me better than to try to talk me out of it. For some odd reason, he is fumbling with a trinket he had in the pockets of his school robes, the golden snitch. I close my hand around it in my own pocket._

“Good night, little brother.”


	54. Severus: Back in the Dungeons

_~Severus~_

_I sit down at the large desk in the circular room, thinking I will return to my quarters. But I want to keep an eye on the fireplace and on Phineas. It has just chimed midnight. I finger something in my pocket, not my wand but a metal object with an hourglass in the centre,_

__Only to be used under special circumstances, I was told at school. Slughorn never even asked for this Time Turner back at the end of Seventh year. Useful for spying. My mind is throbbing with the vile snark I spewed, did I really say that Sirius consider himself suspended? I can't deny it; I'd rehearsed the words before spitting them out in anger. I can't tell why I was so angry. He was acting distant because of a houseful of guests guaranteed to cause strife if left alone, and yearning to talk to Regulus' picture._ ___

__But still I seethe that he doesn't want me along on his sojourn to the coast. If I could flip this time turner over three or four times, or even twice and not get caught, I would._ _ ____

__It may come in handy._ _

_I want to tell Sirius that I was as usual not secure enough to take matters as they are, I need them to go my way._

__I make my way from the carved wooden desk. I'd rather be in the dungeons, oh, yes. The familiar potions, the jars of specimens in suspension, the dull light, the chill from the stone walls. Perhaps Phineas could follow me. I have two old portraits of the most brutal looking Healers, ones that have my admiration. They've always enjoyed Phineas' company._  
_

“Phineas, I'll be in the dungeons as usual. Come as soon as you're ready.” _ _I tell him.__

 __He nods and walks out of his portrait, saying_ _ “I'll keep an eye on the youngest Black, shall I?” __in a bored voice. I start to protest but he disappears._  
_

__The other portraits are feigning sleep, the wizard with an ear trumpet has fallen asleep on one side. But his eyes glitter at me every minute or so. I gather up the silver snuffbox and the Alchemy book. He wants me to discover the Useless Brew? And not just an academic interest. I've never known anyone I could use it with. I would have thought Lily but that was a one-sided affair if ever I saw one._  
_

__I moderate the floo capacity of the Head's fireplace. All incoming will now come straight to my rooms so far below._  
_

__

__Perhaps Sirius and I were never meant to be friends with my short fuse and his recklessness. A master and his dog. I don't think that. I do not think that. It's not possible. Obedience training? A mutt learning to heel? Maybe he sensed it and that's why he was ... maybe he sensed that in the way I've tried to show it._  
_

__

__If he wants to be on staff, he has to take me as I am, But I owe him an explanation and a little insight that has occurred to me very recently. I wonder if I would post it....perhaps. It will be good to write it out, even if it is one of my typical short, terse letters. I make my way out of my office and head for the dungeons, the castle quiet, the majority of its inhabitants sleeping. Even Filch went away for three days. Who would have him, but then who would have me, other than Sirius? I scowl at my answer._  
_

__Most people think I'm as lovable as an eel._  
_

__I sweep down the final set of steps and set off along the stone corridor, with the familiar torches in brackets. I should not have left the Malfoys stranded. I do feel sorry about that. They were counting on my protection from the hordes of snake biters._  
_

__Finally I reach the low-ceilinged dungeon room I call my own. The feeling of entrapping myself in my own idiotic mood is enhanced by the darkness and angularity, the shelves of samples and the many thick, dark-spined books with wording worn from care, the lack of fire._  
_

__I feel like I want to keep it chilly. Let it penetrate me, feel .. what? I lay my Dumbledore-Flamel book on a shelf next to the books most pertaining combat of the Dark Arts. It's only fitting, considering Sirius' position. I find myself grinding my teeth at the thought of Sirius being a suspended member of staff._  
_

__I sit at the desk and open the top central drawer. I pull out a piece of parchment. I pause and think of what I want to say, and how, but then decide for once instead of planning I will write off the top of my head like I do with most problem-solving._  
_

__Holding the quill in my right hand, I scrawl in my angular, cramped writing:_  
_

_  
_ _Sirius, my friend and mongrel,_

_I offer not so much an apology as an explanation. I left out of my own insecurities rather than any specific actions on your part. Particularly after you gave me the Alchemy book, special edition indeed. I have been searching for the same book since I was fifteen and on the threshold of losing what I had of Lily. I did not want to discover that we could never take it, the Useless Brew, and so I stopped my search._

_I am was a fool, a fairy tale Prince. No longer. And I wanted no reminders._

_I was full of dislike for Harry's eyes and faking Ronald's putrid and vapid speech, and the situation of being locked into a social situation (I did not mind the presence of the Malfoys, I admit) I felt I had to end it. This and the absence of being alone in your presence so we could speak openly, if sometimes with venom, and learning to like your friendship; I felt abandoned upstream and the falls are coming._

_I chose to leave before my defences fell. I always choose to leave before my defences fall. I felt ignored by you, trapped and also unwilling to be in the presence of Regulus' sketch any longer. I had neglected it so long, neglected him so long, it felt like one more obligation I could not fulfil. I like to feel useful, but not cornered._

_I hope to somehow show you that I will stand by you, as you need help with the cave. I was allowed to help locate it...but not good enough to accompany you! You vex me and hex me without even being aware of such a thing. That is what one expects of friends?_

_Yours with exasperation,_

_Severus_

 

__I look at the letter, stare at it, raise it to the dim light, detecting at least ten flaws already. I want not to send it, yet I really do want to send it. But it's flogging a dead horse. I shred it into eighths and ignite the fire, and feed the letter piece by piece to the flames._  
_


	55. Sirius: Born To Be Wild

~Sirius~

 __  
_I check on Regulus' – Severus' room before going to bed. It looks like he's never been here. He must have send his stuff back to Hogwarts while I was busy with Ron._  


__  
_There's a dead mouse under the bed and my heart jumps in joy. He was here. I haven't imagined the last two days. Two days and a couple of letters are not enough to overcome a lifetime of hatred._  


_Has he understood that I was trying seriously or doesn't he care at all? Seriously. He is one of the few people who don't start sniggering when I use the word. I usually avoid it for that reason. James said I shouldn't try to be Serious; the misspelling doesn't suit me. Is there a reason that I later remember what an annoying prat James could be? I couldn't complain; I was siriusly mad. I still am._

_I wake up the next morning after a weird dream. A wizard was throwing snakes between a pack of hunting lions and pushed lions in pits filled with poisonous snakes. I wanted it to stop, but nobody listened to me. The wizard laughed in a high-pitched voice and then the whole scene was showered with confetti which turned out to be sherbet lemons._

_I've decided to take my baby for the trip to the coast. I always preferred to literally go to a place than just appear out of thin air. I can apparate, if necessary, but since my return even the fragments of a second of swirling nowhereness make me feel uneasy._

_I put on the the full gear of Muggle biker clothes. They have developed into something like a knight's armour since my youth._

_***_

_Arthur was thrilled when I took him along to buy them. Like a little boy in a toy shop. The young girl in the shop had a lot of fun to explain the newest development in helmet ventilation and anti-mist visors._

“Your friend is a funny guy.”

“Yes, he is. He's from the continent, rural area.”

“Oh, I see. His English is excellent.”

“He will be delighted to hear that.”

_I got him a leather jacket with a roaring lion on the back and a red helmet with golden wings. He understood that Muggle law demands us to wear proper gear on the road. I have gone for vintage style black leather myself. Arthur tried to persuade me to take one with a phoenix on the back. I declined._

“That's for Harry, when he trusts me for a ride.”

_There was one with a snake. I wonder, if Severus could ever be convinced to..._

_I also took a new pair of saddle-bags. The old ones looked like Hagrid had been nesting a dragon inside. We had to take them out to see if they fit._

“Wow, a Norton!”

“1977, Commando 850 MKIII. My one and only love.”

_The girl giggled and eyed the bike with admiration._

“A faithful, old-fashioned gentleman you are. I love those classic British bikes. They are so rare nowadays. Your baby is in pristine condition.”

“She was my first and never let me down. I've just restored her from scratch after a crash.”

_The girl looked at me ._

“Oh no, not me, a friend of mine who was looking after her while I was abroad.”

“I would have killed him. I'm sorry, I mean... is your friend all right?”

“Yes, he's fine, but the bike was a mess. It wasn't his fault, too many idiots on the road.”

“It must have been difficult to get the original parts. It's all original isn't it?”

“Of course, every nut and bolt. Except for the e-starter.”

“I've heard about that. They used an imported one which never worked.”

 _I shrug._  
“ If one can't start the bike without it, one should drive a car. The replacement one works only slightly better.”   
_Actually the starter button doesn't start her at all; it makes her fly._

“Oh, I'm very grateful for the invention of the e-starter.”

“Lady's privilege. My girl is well-mannered. She doesn't kick out.”

_The girl thought for a moment and decided she dared to ask._

“May I? Just a round on the parking lot?”

“Give it a try, but keep your hand off the starter button. She's not used to it.”

“Don't worry, I can handle her.” _There was a familiar tone of provocation in her voice._

_I kept my wand ready to start her magically, but it wasn't necessary. The girls got along pretty well._

***

_I get the bike out off its shed in the back yard and cast a warming charm on the motor. I apologise to her for dragging her out. She doesn't like the wet and the cold. I don't mind the weather, only want to get out off the city traffic as quickly as possible. I've told Severus that I know the way, but things have changed in the last twenty years. The suburbs don't seem to end and they all look alike._

_Only a few people are heading home, their cars packed with parcels. Nobody else is going to the sea on a wet morning in late December._

_The parking site is empty. I ignore the roadblocks and drive as near to the cliff as my bike will take me. There won't be Muggle guards today. They can't stop me anyway._

_There's the sign post Severus saw in Harry's mind. I leave the bike at the sign and follow its direction up the steep grassy slope to the edge of the cliff._


	56. Severus: A crack in the night and another letter

_~Severus~_

_After shredding the letter I feel blank. I really haven't had much sleep over the past few days. I look at my specimens on the shelf and the tangles of dried herbs hanging on the wall of my office. I shall retreat to the sleeping quarters, this rigidly hard mattress. I suppose they think a teacher needs a backbone. Silvery bedstead, wooden headboard, no hangings like in school. So much better than my lumpy bed made lumpier by the books stashed beneath the mattress at Spinner's End._

_It's late, I pull off my robes, put on my nightshirt, and crawl into bed. I don't want to sleep, I'll dream and ruin everything. I lie awake listening to the Healers portraits argue with each other until I ask them if they'd prefer my other office. They're afraid of the former Headmasters, or most of them._

_I finally fall asleep about 2am. I am woken by a CRACK as if someone had Apparated, Dream, No man can Apparate or Disapparate in the Hogwarts Grounds._

_I fall back asleep. Horrid dreams, one that left me in a sweat, waking in a sitting position. Sirius being pulled under the lake's surface by Inferi. Impossible, the Dark Lord has no control now that every Horcrux is gone._

_I don't wake up until 09:15. I'm just yawning and considering whether I should bother brushing my teeth than I hear Phineas Nigellus' voice, tense, unlike himself._ “The last of the Blacks just left the house in a hurry, dressed in leather and a motorbike helmet. He seemed utterly without care. I hope he isn't on a **noble** mission. Long-suffering is the house of Black.” _He paused and raised his always supercilious eyebrow._ “ He left you a note with Kreacher.”

“That was the crack in the night...” _I mutter in a low voice._

“Does it take forever to add one plus one?” _Phineas says with a smirk. This is **my** territory._

“I, at the very least, put two and two together, Black.” _I smirk right back at him,_

“Oooh, I'm Black now?” _Snide sneer._

“Where is the note? Phineas?” _I hate compromises._  

“Hidden. It was dark and Kreacher laughed about invisible parchment. I haven't the foggiest where it is.” _The most matter-of-fact tone I've heard from the lofty snake._

“He'd hide it on or in my desk, or on the bookshelf.” _I aim my wand at the desk_. “ **Specialis Revelio** ”

_Nothing. I aim it at the bookshelf, especially the new Special Edition of the Alchemy text, and repeat the spell. Ahh, I see the cold blue flames lighting up the book. A note, as I open it._

  _I read:  
_

Severus,

if everything goes well and my ancestor keeps his promise not to tell you too soon, I'm already on my way back, when you read this. It would have been nice and reasonable to have you at my side, but only as a friend, not when you feel charmed or tricked. Friendship takes time to develop; time we didn't have. With our past, it is probably impossible anyway. I've seen to that 25 years ago.

I've challenged you once to enter a dark tunnel and thoughtlessly underestimated the danger. I won't do it again. Not that I think there is any danger in the cave except catching a cold, but it simply doesn't seem right.

Thank you for telling me what you found in Harry's mind. I've been to the East coast with my bike often enough to recognise the location.

I'll get in touch when I've arranged everything for Regulus' final rest. Don't worry, I don't intend to invite loads of Potters and Weasleys again, only family and friends. His friends!

Yours

Sirius

 

P.S.: Just in case something goes terribly wrong – I may have gotten involved in a car crash - I've left a second letter at my house explaining to Harry that it was all my stupid idea and you bear no responsibility for my actions. Phineas can give testimony that I tricked you into helping me and if that's not enough, Andromeda and Kreacher will back up his story.

 _*_  

_I turned the paper over in my hands. I read it again, irritated and worried. Had he already left?_

“Sirius made me promise not tot tell you about the letter until he returned, but I am no house elf and follow no orders but that of the current Headmaster. He gives cause for worry. No danger except **catching a cold.** His understatement is always overstatement.” 

__  
Phineas looks more alarmed than his words say. I know he doesn't want to lose the only Black again, only this time for good.  


_I have no wish to stay here. I must set out. I pull on my robes with jeans underneath, and for good measure – and perhaps good luck – Regulus' Sixth year sweater which fits me fine, a little tight in the shoulders maybe. I have leather too – but I won't wear it. No decent wand pocket. I throw on my travelling cloak. I wear a ring that may resonate with the powers there, though it is cracked and the stone removed the Peverell ring still holds incredible summoning power over the dead. The nature of the cracked, black stone. I should have offered it to Sirius, but my rage was so blind I was good to manage it as well as I did._

_I took a broom for covering the distance between the castle and Hogsmeade, muttering counter-enchantments and then redoing them behind me, so the air looks displaced with the force of my protective spells._

__  
They will come in handy at the lake too. Phineas invited me, Sirius, soooo sorry I had to intrude. He's not even here and he's the subject of affectionate derision. I suppose that is the character of Snape/Black relations, a complex Snack. I smirk at my own humour, which according to my mood is dark.  


_I Apparate to the destination I think of so determinedly and deliberately, and there I am panting from the compression of Apparition. I see the sign more clearly than in Harry Potter's mind, **Crescent Cliff 2 miles.** In a short distance, an outcropping of rock, a cliff...a cave. Grey chill December water. I look about for signs of a motorbike. _


	57. Sirius: At the coast

_~Sirius~_  

_I am not as alone as I expected to be. At the edge staring down into the grey sea is a dark figure. Severus!_

“Have you planned to do this all along or couldn't my great-grandfather keep his mouth shut?”

_Severus raises his brows to greet me with the usual dose of snake venom. I put my arm around his shoulder in as much of a short hug as I dare._

“I'm very glad you're here with me, Sev.” _I say quietly. He doesn't push me over the cliff. On the contrary, the upwards movement of his arm to my shoulder, barely touching, can optimistically be interpreted as returning the one-armed hug. I am an optimist._

“Your great-grandfather is a portrait under my command as you noticed a while ago and tell your elf to practise silent Apparition. I don't like to be woken up in the middle of the night by cracking noises. Anyway as your future employee I may be held responsible under the Dangerous Dog Act for letting you stray.”

_I bark happily in response. It feels so good to have a friend at my side... again._

“I've been exploring the place while you wasted time playing ' _Easy Rider'_. There's a narrow path leading to the water. “

_We climb down the path to a small pebbled beach. It's surrounded by rocky cliffs. The waves of the rising tide crash on the rocks. The noise and the salty air remind me of..._

_The seagulls are circling the rocks._

“No swimming at ebb tide.” _I murmur half to myself. Severus gives me a strange look and I try to explain._

“Ebb tide pulls you out to the open sea, but we don't need to worry. The seagulls tell me the flood is coming. It won't be too difficult to swim. We can go with the tide.”

“The seagulls tell you? You don't mind that I'm not exactly fond of wizards who talk to animals? Or believe they can hear animals talk to them for that matter.”

“I share your sentiment. Don't worry I'm not going mad. Seagulls have a variety of cries. I've had twelve years to learn their song. But if you need a more mundane proof, the small rock over there wasn't surrounded by water, when we looked down from the top of the cliff. It is now.”

“Alright, alright, I believe you are as sane as you've always been. Not that that's saying much, but it's probably good enough for our purposes.......I can't remember the cries of the seagulls from my time.“ _Severus seems to get lost in thought now. His last sentences has hardly been audible, but my hearing is almost as good as Padfoot's._

“Your time? I never knew that you...”

“It's hardly something one likes to advertise unless you're the only prisoner who ever escaped on his own. It doesn't count compared to you, three days only before Dumbledore bailed me out. I was lucky he considered me useful at the time.”

“I could have done without the advertising, believe me. Fudge's and the recent trash in the Prophet. Whatever you've read, I've never talked to Rita Skeeter. Hermione said something about freedom of the press and insisted that it would help to clear my name better than the truth.”

_Severus smirks. He couldn't have believed it, could he? Skeeter insinuated that I refused to talk about the Muggle girl which was the love of my life and was irretrievably obliviated by my Death Eater family. Of course, I refused to comment on that nonsense and send the sacks full of marriage proposals back to Witch Weekly._

“Stop smirking. Your unauthorised biography wasn't any better. Shall I quote? Severus Snape, romantic heart hidden under a rough exterior…. Protego!”

_The hex he has sent at me has no effect. We're both laughing._

“Let's do something to renew our bad reputation. Harry and Dumbledore have apparated to an almost offshore rock. By the description, Harry gave me it should be the one on the left end of this beach. I guess we have to apparate, too, to get there. This is not the right weather for mountaineering.”

“You don't like to apparate, do you?” _Severus asks._

“No, not really, but I can, if necessary. Let's see, what were the Three D's again?“

“Destination, Determination and Deliberation. Sirius, if don't feel you're up to it, I can take both of us.”

_I appreciate that he says this in a matter-of-factly-tone, but he doesn't need to worry. It's really just a dislike. I can apparate. I shake my head._

“No thanks. I'll manage.”

 _ I prove it by concentrating on the top of the rock and my wish to be there and let go of myself and my body's current position. Severus apparates only a second later. I'm still shaking from the horrible feeling of Deliberation and I guess I look slightly pale. _ _ Severus waits until I am back in control again. _

“Sirius, we have to get one thing straight. If there's any problem, any situation you feel you can't handle, because of something in your past, you'll tell me immediately. I don't want to end up in a mess in that cave because you are trying to keep up the appearance of Gryffindor bravery.”

_I smile wryly. I know my limits. I know what it looks like, but it isn't that bad._

“I promise I will tell you. It's just a few little things. You probably have already noticed. I don't like Apparition; I really like fire, watching it, feeling the heat and I sometimes forget to share my thoughts, because I'm still not used to have company. Nothing of that should get us into trouble if you don't take the last one personally. My magic abilities are as good as they used to be and you know what that means first hand.”

“Is that really all? Regulus mentioned....”

“My brother talked too much. I get a bit nervous when locked in alone. That shouldn't cause a problem; you're with me. Can we move on now? I'm getting cold.”

”One more thing, did Dumbledore know when he made you move into your parents' house?”

_I shrug._

“Remus knew since our first year. Make up your own mind about whether he told Dumbledore or not and when.”

_Severus has heard what he wanted to hear, perhaps more than I wanted to tell. I don't really mind that he knows, less than I mind with the others. He needs to know if I'm a reliable partner in this adventure and he doesn't treat me like a sick puppy because he knows._

_We climb down the landward side of the rock. At the very foot of the cliff just over the water, there's the fissure which leads to the entry of the cave. I remember that Harry mentioned the tunnel behind might be filled with water at high tide. We need to hurry._

“You don't mind, if I get a bit more comfortable for swimming?”

_I don't wait for his answer and land in the ice-cold sea with all four paws. Paddling is a lot easier without dealing with wet clothes. I turn my head a couple of times to see if Severus is really as good a swimmer as he claimed to be. He manages pretty well. The waves try to push us against the boulders. It gets better after we've entered the tunnel. As I expected we can simply go with the stream. Harry mentioned stone steps; only one is still above the water level. I climb up and make way for Severus to follow. I can't help shaking my body to get dry. Severus is showered in spray._

“Never mind, I am already soaking wet.” _,he says grumpily, while I turn human again, nearly dry._

“I'm sorry, instinctive reaction. May I help you?”

“Don't point your wand at me, Black.“

_I take a few steps back and let him cast the charms._

“... unfair advantage,” _he growls._

“I thought you'd appreciate when I act like a reasonable Slytherin using any means to make the best of it. Why haven't you tried to become an Animagus yourself? It's not that difficult.”

“ Sure, go through the whole process only to discover that I turn into a spider or a cockroach or whatever nice animal your godson compares me to? No thanks”

“It's a bat. They think you look like a bat. Doesn't sound too awful to me, being able to fly.”

“I can fly.”

“Oh yeah, I remember. Harry told me Voldemort shared that secret with you.”

“Do you think so?” _Severus' eyes are glittering with pride. He was the one who figured out how to fly without a broom._

 _ I bow to him:  _ “I'm impressed.”

“Lily gave me the idea that it is possible. She did it before Hogwarts. I only had to figure out how to do it intentionally,” _he whispers staring at his feet._

“She was a very powerful witch, but to invent a new spell based on accidental magic... Respect!”

“You'd never guessed that Snivellus, the Dark Arts freak could manage a trick like that.” _His sarcasm can't hide the traces of bitterness in his words._

 “I wish I had met Severus, the boy who could do such magic.” _I reply._ “Regulus always said the two of us together would have given Dumbledore a run for his money. I hated it when he said that.”

“You and Potter kept the teachers busy enough.” _Severus snorts._

“Mainly mischief, not much useful magic. Nothing compared to new spells and improved potions.”

“Modesty doesn't suit you. The Map was something.”

“Don't get your hopes too high. I'll leave it with Harry. It's not meant to be used by teachers.”

 

 


	58. Severus: The Cave

_~Severus~_

 

 

“Lumos,” _We both ignite the end of our wands. It is quite dark here, and eerie. I like this December chill mixed with ocean chill. A seagull or ten cries overhead as though to make me feel the dunderhead for not discerning their language._

_Now I have had a mutt shake its wet fur on me, I stare at the place we have come to. We followed the fissure in the rock, down a dark tunnel and now we are in the middle of a cave with no sign of a lake. I recall what Harry's mind told me in faint images I hadn't mentioned to Sirius yet. Dumbledore had to give blood to get in, somewhere on the wall..._

“We are looking for evidence of previous payment, in blood. We first find a place that has been tampered with magically. Think your mutt's nose could sniff out an enchantment or spell?” _I ask._ “Of course a hound is not the most intelligent entity, so...” _Smirk_.

_In answer Sirius stands in the middle of the cave and stares around. The thought of Regulus saying Sirius and I could make a team as powerful as Dumbledore is soothing. Like I'd ever let the other end of the leash know that._

_I strain my eyes even with the wand light. We both move around the cave, Sirius taking the left, I the right. The December chill mixed with wetness and ocean breeze feels like I'm still in the water._

“Seen anything yet, Severus?” Sirius asks after about fifteen minutes.

“It's like looking for a candle in the middle of Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder.” _Then I see it, a dark patch. It glows ever so faintly._ “Wait, and don't bark loudly. I think I've found it. Quiet while I think,” I tell Sirius.

“You, think?” _Sirius jokes and if I have to say 'shush' again I'll do it with a Silencing Charm. He looks purposeful and moves toward me, looking for danger no doubt._

_At least he moved quietly. I'd rather he stayed where he was. I need **space**._

“Blasted thing, It wants payment in blood, but it also needs a spell. Was the Dark Lord...”

“Voldemort,” _Sirius supplies. He looks tense and excited._

“Was the Dark Lord dense enough to allow for a fairly advanced revealing spell?  **Specialis Revelio!** ” _ I point my wand at the cave wall. An arcing entrance appeared, made of purest light (the irony not escaping me) but the wall was solid. The image faded in twenty seconds. _

“Blood. Blood of the one to breach its defences.” 

“That would be me!” _Sirius says oh-so-gallantly._

"Warning. I am quite sure not all spells died when the Dark Lord died...he will have left a few echoes.”

_Sirius shakes his head and withdraws a sheathed hunting knife from his jeans belt._

“I'll take that.” _ I snatch at the knife but Sirius keeps it from my grasp. _

“You're afraid I'll leave you behind?” _Sirius asks knowingly._ “What are you, a Gryffindor first year eager to prove you're brave?”

“We both know bravery has many forms. Shame being gallant is all you can do.”

_ I sneer, but quietly. I can sense that it isn't wise to be loud,  _ “And if I have to use a Permanent Silencing Charm on you, I will.”

_ Sirius goes to cut his thumb but I warn him, “That's pointless. It wants real payment. Perhaps 50cc's of blood at once. You'd be standing a while with a slit thumb.” Sirius stares at me for maybe two seconds and draws the knife over his inner left wrist. He aims it at the wall. _

_ It crumbles open and I wait for Kelpies, Sprites, Grindylows, Kappas or something similar as I view a vast expanse of water. _

_A waft of not so fresh air enters as I apply Dittany to Sirius' cut. Once a Potions Master always a Potions Master._

_The stench of rotting bodies is enough to make me wish to turn back instantly, yet I have seen Dark Magic of a type that makes this horror pale in comparison. This requires Death Eater style bravery._

_Sirius is retching, but moving forward. Regulus is the only one that could make this journey worth it. I know Sirius feels the same way._

_We enter in silence, his Gryffindor chivalry allowing a “second-class Slytherin” to enter first. I know that must be the case because he has never shown fear. He is as much a coward as I am. Not at all._

_We remain silent, each knowing the other is too smart to cause a disturbance at this point. All of the joking, hair tossing, feverish Sirius has gone careful, watchful, alert. I perform a non-verbal Bubble Head Charm and Sirius, noticing, mimics me. We work our way to the edge of the lake and we are grateful for oxygen without the taint of death._

_The sight is hard to ... encompass. We reach an inlet, staring around as we try to take in the nauseating sight. We need not worry about Grindylows or Kelpies. Nothing could survive and not look like a thousand rotting Dementor limb style carcasses._

_If Regulus comes out, he will come in pieces. Quite small pieces. I had imagined a much less repulsive task, why I do not know. But we are here._

_I nod at Sirius, who stops, and raises his wand._ **Accio Regulus Black!** And he knows it's not that simple, but he had to try. The surface of rotting former Inferi did not move at all.

_I'll try the ring I found in the forest after much effort, just the ring. The former Horcrux that contained Cadmus Peverell's stone. That stone is lost, but not all of its powers left its casing. I tested it sufficiently, tapped its powers. It is like the storybook, kid's stories I didn't hear until ... Regulus read them to me as an “antidote to (my) ignorance,” he said. I used that phrase in my classes. How quaint._

_**Turned it thrice in hand...** _

_I take out the ring from its black leather pouch and held it and turned it three times in my hand, and held my intention with the most stamina I had almost ever used-_

“Severus!” Sirius said in a whisper. “The signet...”

“Be quiet, fool!” _I spit at him and close my eyes, refocusing with more stamina even than fooling the Dark Lord- concentrating on Regulus as he was and shoved away the creeping tendrils of thought as to how he might be now. I nodded at the peak of concentration and lifted my wand._

“Where one still lives who remembers the name... “ _Dumbledore's portrait had said,_ “there is hope of attracting a departed soul...but perhaps not as you wish.”

“ **Regulus Black!** ” _I said it without a whisper, with the control and power more often used in dark days gone by. But that sense will not leave me – Regulus will return._

_A splash, and something bobbed to the surface of the lake in the direction of the centre._

_Sirius, I was shocked to see, had tears of pain or fury or something in his eyes, and again he raised his wand, and this time he bellowed._ “ **Accio Ring of my fathers! Accio Maxima!** ”

_The former Inferi shifted slightly, then a full, body-sized figure rose with a strange grace amidst the other dead. I knew it was not a case of a half-life, that all life was gone, and though I hadn't really hoped for life, it was bizarre. And it was sorrow's moment as if grief had reemerged with the body._

_A funeral, yes, with ... it soared over to us, in our Bubble Heads and landed with a thump at our feet ... with the entire corpse intact._

_Sirius moved first. I guess he has the right, it's his brother. I lean over and Regulus is face down .. it is Regulus I hope, and we turn the body over together._

_He is swathed in bandages and seems to have hardly decayed at all. The reason for this becomes apparent when we turn him over. We remove the head's bandages._

_A sign around the neck of a familiar, almost perfect face. Regulus. Really dead. There's the ring poking through the bandaging, with powers of its own. It belongs to Sirius and always did. This grief belongs to Sirius. I retreat a few steps as he squats next to his brother, reading aloud the sign around the body's neck._

“R.I.P.

Master Lie Still.

Your Kreacher.”

 

_A tidy job. Never underestimate an elf._


	59. Sirius: Unexpected

~Sirius~

_I don't know what I expected the cave to be. Not like this. Severus and I have the same idea, a Bubblehead charm. How shall we be able to gather Regulus' remains from this mass of decaying body parts? I try a Summoning Charm nevertheless. Nothing._

_Severus fumbles with something from his pocket, a ring it seems. It's not the signet ring. How would he have come by it? He tells me to stay quiet._

_He turns the ring in his fingers three times and the power of the magic emanating from the ring fills the whole cave while he calls Regulus' name. The lake's surface stirs; a large …... bundle emerges from the depth._

_I can't contain myself any longer. Regulus' ring, it will answer to my call and it will pull Regulus to me. I call for the “Ring of my Fathers' “._

_The mummy floats through the air and lands at our feet. The mummy? How? What?_

_Severus is as much at a loss about this as I am. We get down on our knees at the sides of the mummy pushing away bones and rags without much consideration. One look at each other and we both know that there is only one way to find out. We start to remove the bandages over the head._

_Regulus' face, fully intact, as if he only died hours ago, as if he was only sleeping. For a moment I think we both expect him to open his eyes and tell us off for taking so long to find him, but he's dead._

_I have pulled Reggie on my lap, holding him. Tears that have been withheld for twenty years fall on his face. I let them fall._

_Severus has moved away a bit leaving me alone with my little brother. I lift the Bubblehead Charm and lean down to kiss Regulus forehead._

“You brave little idiot.” _I whisper._

_Around his neck on a chain is the signet ring of the Blacks and suddenly I understand. That's why Severus has tried another way to summon the body; he knew Regulus didn't wear the ring. Couldn't wear I should say, it wasn't his._

_Beneath the ring there's a small piece of parchment. I try to decipher the clumsy, childlike scrawl reading it aloud._

“R.I.P.

Master Lie Still.

Your Kreacher.”

“Blessed the wizard who does not own his elf, but wins his elf's heart.” _I add._

“What did you say?” __

_ The draft from the open entrance has cleared the air in the cave and Severus too has lifted the protection charm. _

“Oh nothing, a line from one of Kreacher's tales Regulus used to quote.”

“Birds of a feather! Romantic fools, both of you.” , _but the harsh words can't hide his affection for my brother and his faithful servant. He continues in his usual pragmatic way._ “  Let's think about how we deal with this situation. We both expected bones easily bundled and packed, not a heavy corpse. The Anti-Apparition wards are still in place. You must have felt it, too.”

I nod.

“You might summon Kreacher....,” As I shake my head to dismiss this suggestion, he continues: “ I suppose he had not left Regulus, if he had been able to take him out. There's no other way than to carry the body out to the foot of the rock from which we can Apparate. We can use Mobilicorpus to the steps, but not through the water. I assume you don't want to transfigure or shrink the body?”

“Not, if we can avoid it. Hmmm? Kreacher's spells kept the bandages from soaking and they are still mostly intact. I suppose Padfoot can pull the body. We need to conjure ropes to make a simple pulling harness.”

“Yes, that might work.”

_I welcome the chance to put my mind to something practical. This is neither place nor time to wallow in grief and memories._

"Do you know how to tie a pulling harness?”

“I guess you know better. Explain.”

_I lay down Regulus' body and look for a sandy spot on the ground and draw a rough sketch of a dog._

“One loop around the waist, one around the chest just behind the front, connected over the back. Two parallel strings across the breast, tied to the chest loop at both sides two inches above the legs. It's really quite simple, but you have to fit it directly on the dog. It has to be rather tight, but not too tight, two fingers should fit between the ropes and the body. Padfoot can show you when it's all right.”

“I think I can manage. Sometimes you are surprisingly down-to-earth for a pure blood wizard.

“Only Muggles believe that magic can solve everything. We can't summon a ready-made one; it won't fit.”

_Do something, just do anything instead of howling in grief. I gently brush over Regulus' cheek. It's time to re-apply the bandages._

“Only for the journey. We need to get out off here, little one.”

“Aren't you going to take what is yours first? Regulus has carried the burden long enough.”

_The signet ring! Slowly I pull the golden chain over my brother's head and am about to put it around my neck when I see Severus frown. He's right I can't avoid it any longer. I open the chain and put the heavy ring on. The ring slides on my finger almost by itself and doesn't feel heavy anymore. Two greyhounds holding a shield with a sword and two stars, 'Toujours pur'._

_Severus' face shows grim satisfaction. I smile apologetically._

_We protect the mummy with an additional Impervious spell. Severus levitates it towards the tunnel entrance while I give wand light. A few yards before the tunnel the darkness seems impenetrable. Something is blocking the passage!_

_Someone, as the darkness takes form, human form, a familiar human form._

“Are you afraid of ghosts?” _Severus comments my hesitation sarcastically. I turn around glaring, but his face shows that he is as wary as I am. An Inferius turned ghost here in this cave is no laughing matter. Yet the ghost looks familiar and I move one step forward._

“You will not pass unless you pay my price.”

_I know the voice; I know the face._

“Caradoc? Caradoc Dearborn? It's me Sirius. We were, we are friends, don't you remember?”

“Sirius Black! Good to see you. When the curse ended, I was sure Dumbledore would send someone to get us out off here sooner or later. That's why I volunteered to stay behind and wait for you. I knew Dumbledore wouldn't let us down.”

_The ghost sits down one a small rock and waves me to join him. I look at Severus, but he has set down Regulus' body and tries to stay out off sight. I shrug; my old friends aren't necessarily his._

“Caradoc, good to see you, too. We never knew what happened to you.”

“Nothing spectacular. I ran into some Death Eaters and got captured. They killed me for sports and then Voldemort dropped my body here among the others. You are here to get our bodies out and give us a decent burial at last, aren't you?”

“It's only the two of us, you see? We can't get all of you out. I promise we tell Kingsley; he's Minister of Magic now. We only came for my younger brother. Let us pass and we see that you all will be buried.”

_Caradoc's request is understandable and I'm fully willing to inform Kingsley and insist on Ministry action. Unfortunately this conversation takes an unpleasant turn._

“Your brother, Black? He was a Death Eater, wasn't he?” Caradoc's voice is sharp now and full of suspicion. “Who is there with you? Why is he hiding in the shadows? Why aren't James or Remus here?” 

_The wall of darkness blocking the passage gets thicker. Ghosts usually can't do such magic, but the emissary of an army of vengeful Inferi may have hard-to-guess powers. It doesn't make much sense to lie to a ghost and why should I hide the truth?_

“My brother turned against Voldemort. That's how he ended up here, trying to destroy the Horcrux. James and Remus are dead. Voldemort killed James and Lily two months after you disappeared and Remus died in the final battle two years ago. My friend here is Severus, Severus Snape. He was in the Order with us, but Dumbledore kept it a secret during the war.”

“You believe that, Sirius? Snape is a Death Eater! Ask him where he was, when they killed me! Ask him!”

“Caradoc, Severus was Dumbledore's spy.....” _I'm interrupted by Severus._

“I don't deny it, Dearborn. I watched you die.” 

_The ghost rises ready to confront Severus who talks on as if there's nothing at stake._

"I switched sides for my own reasons, but I was a Death Eater at the time...you expected cake?”

“Stop talking such nonsense, Sev. You worked for Dumbledore at the time and like Caradoc described it, you couldn't have done anything to save him.” 

_I address Caradoc again._ “Do you believe I'd call a Death Eater my friend? Do you believe I'd come here with anyone who could be blamed for James' death? You have been a pathetic seeker, but not an idiot. Try to see reason. We cannot get your bodies out off the cave now. You can let us pass and inform the Minister or you insist on detaining us and we will fight our way through. You can delay us, but in the end, we will get past. If not, you have lost more than you gained, because nobody will come for you again.” _I raise my wand to impress on him that I do mean business. Severus does the same._

_Caradoc considers the choice._

“You may pass, Sirius. I trust you. Take your brother, but that snake will stay!” 

_I secretly thank Dumbledore for keeping the Order members only informed on a need to know basis. Caradoc has no idea about the suspicions against me. He will give in._

“That is not an option. You step aside or we fight! Caradoc, I give you my word Severus is no less loyal to Dumbledore or the Order than I am.”

_If the arrogant prat at my side doesn't stop smirking now, I'll hex him first._

_The silence which follows my words seems to last forever. The ghost is thinking it through. Finally, the darkness wavers and the magic barrier disappears._

“I have your word, Sirius? They will come?”

“ You have my word, my friend!”

_We walk through the stone door and it seals itself again behind us._

“No less loyal to Dumbledore than you are. For what it's worth.” _Severus chuckles while he conjures ropes._

“Not much risk to pledge my word to that. It worked; we're through. And I intend to keep my word about getting them all buried.”

“Shacklebolt and Potter will be delighted with the task to clean up that mess.”

“They will do it.”

“Get on your paws that I can tie the harness.”

“I bet you waited for the chance to put me on a leash. You need to swim beside the body to keep it from lurching about and bumping into the rocks.”


	60. Severus/Sirius: Dark Wizard Catchers

~Severus~

The body of Regulus Arcturus Black bobs on one side of me, and I watch the animal on the other side as we near the craggy outer wall. Padfoot raises himself out of the water, and we nearly make it to the outside. What does the mutt do but shake off, sending water showering over me, of course? Such a kind animal. Sirius' dog-self should be glad I like animals better than people.

But the sledge moves when he shakes, turning hither and thither in the shallow water and Padfoot whines and turns in his harness. I take a hint and unhitch him. That leashing business is why he shakes? It's not for joy. And I feel his discomfort at disturbing the body. I can hear the gulls again, mocking us with wheeling and celebration. Surely we can Disapparate back to the square outside 12 Grimmauld Place. We are past the enchanted boundary.

Sirius taps me on the shoulder, and I spin around looking for danger and how to deal with it, expecting Aurors. We will have them sooner or later – Dearborn and late-born, and the breaching of the entrance, the magical disturbances at the cave before the cavern – all will be noticed. I am used to accusations of Dark Magic when the opposite intent is at play.

Sirius still has blotchy eyes and he points at the body. I want to hex him for his soppy behaviour. I would say it is unbecoming a Black but remembering Bellatrix' passionate hatred and adoration I decide that he is somewhat reasonable for his family. I don't care if it's insensitive, it's true, and I am about to needle him to bring him to an angry rather than despairing mood when he looks at me. Serious, are we Sirius?

“Now,” He speaks in a snarl worthy of ... myself.

I don't need to ask. I am holding Regulus' body under the knees at my end, and he the upper body, under the arms. I think of my Destination with all my Determination and move with Deliberation (and inward irony at their mock usefulness) through compression and darkness, feeling Regulus' body jerk and jerk again, as Sirius holds onto a third party...or at least, third body. We two breathe again in the London square outside Grimmauld Place. A Muggle who highly resembles a junked-out Punk drops something as we appear. We're not invisible, even in the darkness of a dusky December day, tea time.

We shuffle quickly, Sirius still using the subtle Levitation Charm so as not to make the body appear to float. Sirius puts a careful hand on Regulus' shoulder, still appearing to hold on. He does hold on and says roughly, “Almost home, Reggie.”

The blue-haired, scruffy junkie whistles loudly. Another street youth appears. She points openly at us.  
“'Scuse, but is that mummy from Egypt?” she yells, whistling like her friend. I don't want a crowd of Muggles, no matter how unbelievable they appear to be, observing us as we enter the place that will be impossible for them to track. But the Ministry can track _them._ I cast subtle Memory charms on the pair of them, and Sirius hurries to open the door.

He enters quickly, the body hovers through and Sirius looks as exhausted as I feel.

“So where shall we lay..?” I ask.

Sirius' eyes look a little watery as he says, “Not his room. Father's study. He always looked happiest in there with Father working. Him and I playing together while the quill scratched away, free to play whatever games we couldn't in the rest of the house. My father Orion never let Mother into his study.”

There are no tears from either of us. I have felt a lump in my throat but banished it immediately, back in the cave. I can picture them playing. After all, I knew Regulus when he was eleven, a child.

“Shall we?” I ask and he leads the way with Regulus floating alongside him and I follow to the study on the second floor that always seemed remote when I visited in my own youth. Busy Important Work Room. I suppress a snort. Sirius enters first, a fine oak desk with some cherry and even rosewood worked into a chair behind it. Sirius nods. I clear the desk with a flick of my wand, everything soaring onto the oak shelving.  
Sirius lays the body on the desk, the green and silver working in the smallest details seeming to welcome Regulus home. The serpent topped quill, made of wood, no feather. The feet of the desk with serpents coiled around them, emeralds in the embossed book cover depicting the Black family in the series _Nature's Nobility: A Wizarding Genealogy._

Sirius conjures some white roses. “Family, your family, honours you, Reggie.”

I look away. The bitterness and snark are coming back to me now and I am running short on a most sarcastic Essence of Goodwill. Sirius is not ready for me. I have the next few words rehearsed.

“This funeral of yours. Friends and family, correct? Not thought through. Did it cross your idiotic, dim-witted mind that not just Harry will come to investigate? I don't mind being involved. But for you? You are playing with Azkaban and you know more than I what extended visits can entail.” I am lashing him verbally in front of Regulus' body. Why does the worst of me come out when I feel grief? “You are a useless mutt and man if you think that letter will tell Potter it was “all your idea” and will make the slightest difference ... but I am glad we recovered Regulus and I will take the consequences.”  
I pause, and what I mean but did not plan to say comes out of my mouth like a curse. It is a curse, not of the Wizarding magic kind. “Damn you, damn you, for leading me into the curse of friendship with you.”

He turns and looks at me, his hand on Regulus' hand, which he has made to hold the white roses. He looks dumbstruck. “Now that we've done the unlikely, we can part for a while. I will help you care for the body and stay for the funeral. Then I need some space to think, and to be away from what hounds me. Potter can track me to the Headmaster's office.” I nod. “What do you wish?”

~Sirius~

“Do as you wish.” _I say. The defiant cold is back to his face and eyes. Master of misunderstanding._ “No really I mean it. I understand that you want to come to terms with everything on your own. I wish you would stay with me, with Regulus, for a while. You don't need to be afraid that I will go into deep mourning. Regulus has been dead for twenty years, no matter what his body looks like. It's a bit late for loud lamenting with tears and wails. What we have done is an act of closure, the last and only service I could do him. The funeral arrangements are a formality. Thanks to Kreacher his body is well-preserved and can lie in peace in this room until after Christmas. I'll owl the family lawyers on Monday to have the crypt opened. I only have to inform Andromeda and the Malfoys and perhaps one or two people you can think of.”

_Severus seems to be surprised and relieved. I had months to think this through. It just happened sooner than I expected._

“As for your legal concerns,” _I can taste the bitterness in my realisation of the truth._ “Nothing has really changed in the Wizarding World, only the names of the wizards in charge. Crouch is gone; they won't send us to Azkaban without trial and in a trial, they have to get past the Goblin lawyers which incidentally are the same who got Lucius acquitted. Actually, Polyjuice as a party joke is not illegal, if they can prove it at all. They can't prove the Legilimency and entering the cave is trespassing at worst. Gold is still the adequate answer to that. If they're clever enough, I suppose Kingsley is, they'll get me to pay for the recovery of the other bodies from the cave. I don't mind that. In short, they can't arrest you without arresting me and I doubt they want to.”

"Do you need to clear the water from your ears, Mutt? Did I not just speak the words 'I will help you care for the body and stay for the funeral. Then I need some space to think?' I will stay as I said but don't expect me to go to some wretched Christmas function. The funeral will be small, good. And you thought things through, more than I suspected. I suppose even someone with mange has to sniff their way out of sticky situations, prison, deadly drapery, a house full of Slytherins."

“You have an abysmal view of..... Gryffindors.” _I mock his own accusation against me_.”It's not mandatory to be a brainless idiot to join our house, we just enjoy making it look like it is.”

“You and your friends have been pretty good at 'making it look like' over generations.”

“Of course, we are pretty good at nearly everything we truly engage in.”

_Having said that I look down in embarrassment, so does Severus. Bickering at the side of Regulus' laid out body. It's our way to deal with it. Better that than Kreacher's sobbing. I raise my hand to Severus' shoulder, again not touching._

“I think Kreacher has more than earned the right to mourn his master without us disrupting. Let's leave him alone for a while. A cup of tea in the kitchen?”

_Severus nods and we leave the study._

_I put the kettle on._

“Camomille with honey for you?”

 _Severus shakes his head._ “I feel like trying the strange stuff you're drinking.”

Two mugs, a pot with brown sugar, a jug of milk settle on the small table in the corner.

_I watch the leaves unfold as I slowly pour the boiling water. The smell fills the room. After two minutes I filter the tea into another self-warming pot and serve it._

“You're sure this is tea? It looks like coffee. This takes the definition of Black tea to a new dimension.”

“It's Ceylon-Assam Irish blend. Take milk and sugar.”

_Severus follows my advice and sips cautiously._

“This explains why you can't sit still for more than a minute.”

_I confirm his assessment by rocking on my chair. Severus rolls his eyes but bursts out in laughter when the chair breaks and I land on the floor._

_I rub my aching back:_ “I guess I'm too old for that kind of fun or the furniture is.”

 _Sitting down decently again on the repaired chair I ask:_ “ Do you know anyone else who should be invited to the funeral? I think you mentioned that Regulus' former girlfriend is dead?”

“Most of our friends are dead or in Azkaban. Those who didn't get involved might be cautious to admit friendship to a Death Eater. Horace Slughorn perhaps, if he dares to come. He was very fond of your brother, really fond I mean, not just name and money.”

“I spoke to him during the summer. He is very cautious, tried to cover up the fact that his wonderful Slug Club was a recruiting ground for Death Eaters. Lucius and Nott surely did their best to help you youngster along the way at the parties, didn't they? Lily mentioned it. I'll invite Horace. Let's see, if he has the guts. He's still working at Hogwarts, isn't he?”

“He is. It's nearly as difficult to hire a decent potion master and find a suitable Head for Slytherin House as it is to find a competent defence teacher. He promised grudgingly to stay until I find one with the knowledge and the clearance. Insisted on a pay rise. What about Harry? I'm aware you consider him family.”

_I look down at the table and swallow. It is difficult._

“Harry is family, close family as far as I'm concerned. He is my godson. He was barely an hour old when James first put him into my arms and Lily made me promise to protect him. I love him and I always will. As much as I loved my little brother, even after I thought he had turned against me. You've asked me the other night if I've tried to persuade Regulus to follow my lead to Gryffindor. I didn't. I took it for granted that he would come with me. I spent half of the summer holidays trying to convince James that my brother was all right, too.”

_I try to shake off the unpleasant thoughts._

“Difference in opinion does not make one stop loving somebody. The funeral is about Regulus, not me. When I think Harry is ready to pay respect to my brother, I don't mind him attending.”

_Severus looks doubtful. He certainly remembers the scene at the party. But the Slytherin understands what the Gryffindors don't._

_We're interrupted by the ringing of the doorbell._

“The Ministry reacts a good deal faster than it used to.”

_I'm afraid Severus is probably right._

_I open the door wide enough for me to stand in, but not for them to pass._

“Harry! Ron! Coming to help me deal with the leftovers? And you brought friends.” _I glance pointedly at the two additional Aurors standing at the foot of the stairs. Harry looks stubborn holding a parchment. Severus should have trained him to get used to sarcasm._

“The Muggle police reported two men carrying what looked like a corpse over the square and disappearing into nowhere.”

“So the Head of the Auror Office comes to investigate the usual suspects?” _I'm still blocking the door. I expected him to inquire, but that he thought it necessary to make it official and bring reinforcement makes me furious. Harry glares and pushes the parchment into my hand._

“We have a search warrant.”

_I raise my hands in mock defeat and step back letting the long arm of the law enter the house._

 

~Severus~

_I watch Harry cross into the entrance hall. I imagine Sirius' face showed as much irony as his words because Harry Potter does not look pleased._

_I approach the three Aurors, one of whom is Ronald Weasley and one of whom I remember from my Clearance. The one who made it seem as if I were named Snivellus Slimeball, only ten times more disgusting. These young ones have no idea. Name? Michael Corner._

“What are you here for?” _I hiss at Corner and Sirius' hand hovers near my shoulder as if to restrain me. I stand stock still. Sirius had better stop it with the levitating hand. Contact or no contact! And I get to snarl and not speak? I think not._

 _Corner looks grim._ “There was a report of a wrapped body disappearing on your doorstep. Here's the Search Warrant.” _Corner flicks his head in the direction of Harry's sheaf of paper._

“We thought it had to be you.” _Corner is looking at me, not Sirius. Potter is looking at Sirius as though he's ready to put us under duress. I hope Harry's remains professional but that's unlikely of someone who seems the opposite of my old ideal Dumbledore and always tries to find and expand on the worst possible traits._

“'It had to be you.' Such subtlety. I expect better investigating of a boy ... you are a boy ... who earned straight Es in Potions. Though without any intuitive process whatsoever.”

“Is that all you can do, sneer? I am from the Department of Magical Law enforcement and I make Dark Magic and Dark Wizards my business. As do my colleagues. There is a legal reason for us to be here.” _Corner sounds impatient so I just have to interrupt him._

“Are you quite certain of that? Your great expanse of neurones aren't misfiring? In any way? And wipe those Muddy shoes on the mat.”

“Watch it, Snape!” _Ronald roars, his ears purple. Always subtle as a pipe bomb._

“How in Merlin's name did you end up an Auror, Granger?” _I look at him with mock puzzlement._ “Mr Granger, in cahoots with Mr Potter. You heard that right.” _I watch Ron's hands turn into fists. Harry steps between us._

“You're opening with hostility. You must be defending whatever you've done to Sirius!” Harry stares from me to Sirius to me and back to Sirius again. Isn't he getting dizzy?

_The female Auror seems to be taking things in. I like her style. She's the observer, the others are reactants. Potions joke. Stir a few minor chemicals into the mix...I want to catch her off guard. She and Harry are the dangerous ones. Harry, who sees every negative magnified. Did I really share my memories with such an arrogant twit? I'll enjoy his second-rate synapses. The idiot does have intelligence, but he makes little use of it. It will keep him from progressing from adding one and one to putting two and two together._

_Though they certainly responded quickly to the Muggle reports. Probably been waiting for some chance to tear us apart. Harry is not stupid, he's dense._

“What are you going to accuse us of next? Genocide, or bad breath?” _I sneer at him. Just to make sure they know I view this as pithy. I expected it._

“I suggest you take a look and be on your way. I'm afraid I haven't been expecting guests. Do I need to owl Burok, Burok & Laddkil, Harry?” _Sirius says, eyeing everyone in the room but me._ _The effect of the name of the Goblin law firm whose client list reads like Walpurga Black's 'Nature's Nobility' on the Aurors is no surprise. I guess I'm not the only one who's creepily reminded of Lucius Malfoy as he used to be. Sirius is playing the cool-headed one at the moment, I the aggressive one._

“Sirius!” _Harry yaps, looking pained._ “I ask you, what did you do with the body? And Snape! Doesn't he have anything better to do than corrupt my Godfather?”

“You know, Sneerius...” _begins Corner. He's an equal opportunity hater. And he thinks I'm bad._

“Don't call Sirius names! Sirius is nobbled and easily provoked and must have been doing something to do with the recovery of Regulus Black's body, using Snape for Dark Arts needed in the cave. Do you think I'm stupid? Someone tried to trick me into giving away the location, and I'm not sure how you got the information precisely...”

_Sirius is frowning at the godson he so adores and his sarcasm sags._

_Harry looks angry, and his anger has never suited him. It diminishes him. He just looks small and sounds petty. Ronald Bilius Weasley has the colouring of Xenophilius' dirigible plums. He strides forward first and steps into the sitting room._

“ Alright, Snape, what are you doing to Sirius? Where's this Regulus? Are you using Dark Magic to turn a dead Death Eater into an Inferius?”

“You astonish me, truly, Weasley. I do not have an imagination dark enough to conceive of doing that to a former friend.” I smile and look right through him and when I look again he's unnerved.

 _Finally the woman speaks._ “You have been vouched for by Mr Potter and late Professor Dumbledore. These vouches can be withdrawn by the only living...”

“Don't make idle threats,” _Sirius says with a cold laugh that makes me freeze. I haven't seen much of the let's-get-to-business side of Sirius._ “Search my house; you know the place well enough. Harry. Please tell your ..... not to smash any of the crystal. You remember it's come down through the family?”

_~Sirius~_

_Harry thinks the better of provoking me any further. He changes strategy._

“Sirius, when have you become my enemy?” _,he's almost pleading._

_Has it gone that far? I want to take his hands and tell him.... Tell him what? I've already told him, again and again. He doesn't listen. Dark Arts, repeat the accusation often enough and you can believe it's true. I should know the trick._

“I am not your enemy.” _I say still too coldly._ “I am not the one who came to this house with legal papers and uttering absurd threats and accusations of Dark Magic against me and my friends. Present proof or leave. That at least I thought has changed under your new rule. You can't arrest us without evidence.”

_What I really want to say is 'Don't make me choose again. You're not James and I am no eleven-year-old desperate for a friend.'_

_The young Auror has left the room to start searching. There are noises from the upper floor, cursing._ “Alohomora!” _, the crashing of glass from a rebound spell, shouting._ “Harry! There's a locked door on the second floor. It resists unlocking spells!”

 _Harry stares furiously from me to Severus who speaks the name I'm thinking_. “Kreacher!”

_We both storm out of the drawing room with our wands out to stop the man from doing any harm to my brother's little guardian. Harry, Ron and the woman follow._

“No one's going to disturb Kreacher's master!” , _determined cries come from behind the study door._

_The Auror fires a Reductor Curse at the oak door which bounces off again and smashes the portrait of a medieval hag on the opposite wall. The hag shrieks like hell while her neighbouring portrait tries to pull her into his frame._

_The Auror raises his wand to another pointless attempt to break the door. Severus does the same pointing at the young man._

“Harry, stop this nonsense! It's only Kreacher. He's trying to protect the peace of Regulus' laid out body.” _I shout at Harry._

_As it stands they can't press serious charges against us. Duelling an Auror is a different matter. I'm not going to let Severus risk his freedom for nothing._

_Severus lowers his wand only slightly. We're both furious, but there's not point in letting this go too far._

_Harry luckily thinks the same._

“Leave it, Michael! It's just a house elf.” _Harry tones down his voice and talks through the door._ “Kreacher, it's me, Harry. Open and let us in. We need to see what Snape has done to your master's body. Open the door, Kreacher.”

“Master Harry?” _, comes very quietly from behind the door, but then with renewed resolution._ “Kreacher only takes orders from his family or who Master Sirius has appointed.”

_Harry is dumbstruck. Severus and I exchange amused winks. I barely nod._

_Severus walks to the door._ “Kreacher, open up and let us pass.”

“Harry and Ron won't disturb the body.” _I add._

_Harry is seething as we hear the lock creak. Kreacher lets the four of us enter and slams the door shut in the two Aurors' face._

 

 _Harry and Ron stare at the body speechlessly. Then Ron speaks:_ “You did raid the cave and hid the body!”

“We don't deny it.” _I state._

“Mr Weasley, the English language has a variety of verbs to describe what we have done; some a much better fit. We entered the cave and recovered the body and you can hardly call a body lying in state until the funeral hidden.”

“But you have done something to it. You can't tell me that restoring a body to this state doesn't require Dark Arts.” _Harry insists stubbornly, but it slowly seems to sink in that Regulus' young, untouched and peaceful face can't be the result of evil spells._

“Harry, “ _Now I plead for him to listen._ “we didn't do anything. We were as surprised as you are when we found him in this state. It takes powerful magic indeed to preserve a body for more than twenty years, especially in that environment, but nothing Dark. It was an act of love from someone we haven't accounted for.”

_I pass him the note we have found._

“Kreacher has done this?” _Harry asks incredulously looking down at the elf who smiles with an odd mixture of shyness and pride._

“Yes, Kreacher has done it. He must have returned to the cave about an hour or two after Regulus died. I guess he told neither you nor me about it because in doing so he went against Regulus' direct orders. You couldn't leave him to rot in the lake, could you?”

 _Kreacher shakes his head and sobs._ “Kreacher has promised his Mistress to always look after Master Regulus, but I had to leave him because he ordered me to do so.”

 _The elf presses his nose against me. I stroke his bald head._ “You have done the right thing. It was my duty to bring him back home and bury him in the family crypt. Reggie wanted to keep the circumstances of his death unknown to protect you and our mother.”

“You really want to bury him, nothing else?”

“Of course, how many times do I have to tell you? Severus would have cursed me to smithereens if I had been mad enough to suggest anything else. Regulus deserves his final rest with the family he loved so much. What had you done, Ron, if anyone denied you the right to bury Fred?”

“Hmm, perhaps.... I had done the same. But I wouldn't have asked Snape for help.”

“What a pity, I'd love to put a rope around Weasley's neck and pull tight.” _The whisper is only audible to me. I have to bite my lips to keep from laughing._

_Harry throws us a sidewards glance, but refrains from asking the reason for our amusement._

_I decide to be done with the second issue immediately._

“Harry, we did encounter something in the cave. Something the Ministry should deal with, something which should have been dealt with right after the war.”

“Are going to tell me that you set off a curse or let a Dark creature escape? I've warned you about that.”

“Nothing of the kind. Regulus wasn't the only dead in the cave, as you very well know. There are hundreds of Voldemort's victims. The Inferi curse has ended, but not all of them moved on. They left a guardian. The ghost of an Inferius is far from the friendly fellows at Hogwarts and he draws power from the traces of magic in that cave. He once was a friend of James and me. Caradoc Dearborn, I think Mad-Eye mentioned his name when he gave you the photograph of the First Order. Caradoc demands that all the bodies should be returned to their families and buried. It took a great deal to convince him that the two of us couldn't possibly fulfil his wish immediately. In the end, he only gave in, because he recognised and trusted me. I suppose he can and will leave the cave if we waste too much time to keep the promise I had to give. The remaining bodies are in quite a state, bones and rotting rags scattered all over the place.”

“And now you expect the Ministry to honour your promise and clean up Voldemort's mess?” _Harry is even less skilled in playing it cool than James was. He can't hide that in his heart he has already agreed to the mission. He pities the restless dead and their families as much as I do._

“Yes, I hope you will. Caradoc was a classmate of Kingsley's, two years above your father and me. “

“I suggest you discuss this with Kingsley after Christmas. Which reminds me we all should be back home getting ready for the dinner at the Burrow. Molly will skin us alive if we are late.”

_I don't really feel like another party tonight and I don't really want to leave Severus now that he has agreed to stay with me._

_To our surprise Ron seems to be trying to overcome himself._

“I guess it's all right, if you bring Snape, too. Mum always says the more the merrier.”

~Severus~

_Attend a social function again? But Sirius has won my respect over time, and especially during this over-long day. He's the only one I would do it for. I look at Sirius, who looks pained. I give him an infinitely small nod. He grimaces and nods faintly back._

“I can stomach it, if necessary.” _I look at Ron, who has just tried very hard to get over himself._ “I may even ... enjoy myself. No guarantees my viper's tongue will not slip between my teeth at some point.”

_Ron laughs nervously and looks like he regrets what he has offered. I'll go just to watch Ronald gain yet another hangover. Molly is a notoriously good cook. I feel a bit wrong-footed by my own nature. How many times did I insult Ron today?_

_Sirius looked reluctant but is now rubbing his hands together._

~Sirius~

_We leave father's study and Harry explains to his astonished staff that he is convinced no crime was committed or planned and there's no reason to bother us any longer. The Auror Michael looks stubborn and the young witch distrustful. I repair the broken portrait frame and the old hag has a lot to say while she reorders the scattered objects in her painting. We are lucky that only Severus and I understand enough Middle English to get an idea what she's saying while we descend the stairs and enter the drawing room._

“ _Harry, are your co-workers coming?”_

~Severus~

“Michael and Sally-Ann have to return to the Ministry. As for Ron and I, we were called from preparations. We'll meet you there.” Harry seems to be trying to read my expression. I give him my best inscrutable stare. He looks further. Is he attempting Legilimency? I smirk at him and say nothing.  
_He moves to the fireplace in quite a hurry, scatters floo powder into the flames. “Corner!” Corner steps in and is swept by emerald flames, mutters_ “Atrium!” _and vanishes._ “Perks!” _he orders the woman to the green flames, which lick her, envelop her as she shouts,_ “the Atrium!”. _She's gone too._

 _Ron gives me what I think an accusatory stare, scatters floo powder. He mutters,_ “The Burrow!” and is gone.

Harry walks to fireplace and turns on his heel. “You'd better get changed. You're both covered in dirt and muck. A bit of a giveaway.”

_Do I take orders from scruffy men in glasses?_

_I continue to smirk at him. As if we'd had time! But we must change before the dinner. I'll send for my best dress robes, the ones that will annoy the Weasleys the most, and I expect the Potters and Grangers too. Horace gave them to me as a gift. They are the same as my everyday black robes, except that they are Egyptian cotton and have two quite small stitched green serpents intertwined at the neck., at the clasp. They're quite subtle but will undoubtedly cause a reaction. Symbolism has always been a Hogwarts standby. The robes are at Spinners' End, so I can access them right away, no need to return to Hogwarts. Damn. Or is it 'damn'?_

_Sirius hand is descending again. He stopped his hovering hand business. It now rests on my_ _shoulder. I won't return it but I won't inch away. I turn and face him, as the last green sparks escape the fireplace._  
“Thanks for coming, Severus.” _Sirius looks uncertain._ “I wasn't sure I'd attend, myself.”

“Oh, how can I resist?” _I say sarcastically._ “You know how I love to socialize. It will be the height of a dull and tedious day, in which we accomplished nothing.”


	61. Sirius/Severus: Socializing

~Sirius~

_I slump into an armchair._

“Believe me my longing for social events is equally limited today. I guess it won't be that bad. Ron will have told them what we have done and Molly will understand.” _Severus doesn't answer. I know I'm asking a bit much, but maybe it's better to go and face the crowd than staying here remembering Reggie._

_Reggie! I look at the portrait on the wall. He isn't there. Phineas is and he reluctantly divulges information._

“Regulus went to your mother's portrait after you left. He couldn't make her talk to him. He is hiding somewhere in the house.”

_I jump up and want to go looking for him, but Phineas calls after me._

“Wait, don't go! Let him be for a while. You don't have the time to really talk to him now. There's no portrait in Orion's study; he won't have to see his own body. He'll come round when he's ready. I'll look after him until he is.”

_Severus agrees with his controlled soft voice._

“Sirius, one thing after the other. We need to change for the Weasel party. We – you have to do your duty and you promised to attend. There's time enough to deal with the sketch of Regulus when we return. When do we have to be at the Burrow anyway?”

_I look at the clock._

“Seven sharp. 20 minutes left. Can you get your robes? It's less formal than yesterday obviously, family party.”

“No problem. I have a second set at Spinner's End.”

_I smile painfully. I really have no idea how I would stand it without him._

_We climb up the stairs to the bedrooms._

“You can use Regulus' room again.” _I say unnecessarily._

_Taking a very welcome shower and get into the Muggle clothes I like to wear on such occasions. Matching, of course, I lived close to them long enough not to fall for the odd habits of other wizards. I pull the frilled cuffs in place and adjust the lacing on the shirt and the side of the tight leather trousers. I almost look like a wizard._

_Severus is already there, when I enter the drawing room. He strikes an impressing figure in his plain black, but definitely expensive dress robes._

“Leather again? If I didn't know you left it at the coast, I was afraid you wanted to use your motorbike.”

“My bike is back in her shed where she belongs. She has a magical homing device built-in. We don't have enough time to go by bike. The floo it is. I have chosen Muggle clothes to please Arthur.“

“This is what you consider Muggle clothes?”

“Definitely, you can check the labels. Actually, Muggle clothes don't look that weird, if you know where to buy them.”

_Severus seems to be amused._

“Come on, off to face the lions.”

“Morituri te salutant.”

“I've never heard that anyone has died from Molly Weasley's cooking.”

***

_We fall out of the fireplace in the middle of the Burrow's kitchen crowded with Weasleys. The lively chatter stops abruptly. All eyes are set upon us, but not with yesterday's hostility. Just before the silence gets really awkward, Molly walks up to me and puts her arms around me._

“Merry Christmas, Sirius.” _and then she starts sobbing._

_Arthur steps up to greet Severus. Luckily he thinks the better of hugging him. He simply stretches out his hand._

“ _Severus, merry Christmas.” He's determined to hold Severus' gaze._

_This breaks the dam to a turmoil of 'Merry Christmas' hugs for me and a bit reserved, but honestly meant handshakes for Severus... Only Andromeda knows no reserve. She pulls us both into her arms._

“Thank you, Severus, for looking after my stupid cousin.”

 _I growl._ “When will everybody stop appointing me a babysitter?” _I mutter under my breath._

 _Severus smirks and whispers: “_ When you've finally learned to lace your shoes.”

_I look down, tinsel snakes again._

“This time I'll get you for it.” _I hiss._

“Wasn't me, it was her.”

_Andromeda giggles._

_~Severus~_

_Arthur let go of my hand. He has a bit of a stiff handshake, but mine wasn't surpassing it in warmth and welcome, to be sure._

_I give Sirius a set of fine tinsels snake laces just to show that most everything has changed but for jinxing a Gryffindor in a house overflowing with lions. I do feel like a Gladiator in the Arena, Sirius. And everyone gets a slice of my blade._

_Andromeda noticed the kick to her shin along with the false accusation._ “Wasn't me...” _The hell it wasn't. I have to get his goat sometimes. And not like Aberforth._

_I look around and Arthur's brood is everywhere. The place is crowded and I can hear more Weasleys and hangers-on coming through from the garden. Mother-clucking Molly is telling off George for having his hand on the rib of a roast, peeling back the meat with his fingers._

“Just peckish, Mum.” _He has that mischievous Weasley twin look, but when he looks away he looks downcast, angry._

_I edge from the fireplace into the kitchen and lurk where George is lurking, looking sour. Sour is better than outward sentimentality. I can empathize. We stand in silence next to each other, then George speaks._

“That was decent, what Ron said you and Sirius were up to. Maybe you're not a complete ass. Maybe you're half a donkey or a third of a mule.” _George's smile is a grimace._

 _Molly rushes around, giving us dirty looks._ “This is a kitchen, not a clubhouse for useless men. You both look eternally peckish. Now out!” _We scurry away from Molly, who looks concerned as she looks at George, yet resigned._

“Mum would go spare if we hadn't brought ... Fred home. So would have I and there never is closure. There isn't any, but at least there was a funeral. But I keep my pecker up somehow. The joke-shop is all right with Lee Jordan's help. I convinced him to quit his announcer job for WWN and he did it... but he's doing it for Fred.” _George waves at the tall black man with dreadlocks and a very white even smile. Lee waves back._

“Should I ask Sirius...do you think I could come see his brother off? Regulus? I would like there to support him. If it were me – if Sirius could have come to Fred's he would have. But he was still... wherever he was. Do you think I could?”

“I suggest you ask him. He's playing with Teddy in the doorway.” _I don't feel like this is a Weasley I have ever met. I suppose I haven't. Quite different than the twin I remember from Potions, and the corridors, passing out Puking Pastilles and turning Montague into a canary with another trick sweet, and yet another making Theodore Nott have lips too puffed up for speech. The Bulbadox powder in my nightshirt, and the Wartcap powder in my protective dragon skin gloves._

_As I remember I feel less than fond of George and have half a mind to turn him away. It's up to Sirius._

_I hear muttering from a corner, hear my name spoken in an undertone. I glance at the place my name is coming from and see Harry and Ron with their heads together, and Ginny Potter, leaning toward them and nodding her head. Looking at “Mrs Potter” is going to be quite hard, I see._

_George turns away and slouches out of the room, shrugging his shoulders. Ronald is walking over to me and from the way he ploughs through the crowd he seems like a steamroller and about as pleasant as a demolition team. He'll be easy..._

“Listen, Snape, George has enough trouble without you adding to the pile. What did you say to him?”

“I was telling him about a funeral that will be held soon. He wished to attend.” _My tone is nothing less than icy and my elocution is clipped, low, penetrating._

“Is it your funeral?” _Ronald is so tactless and snide I have to smile, if coldly._

“Regulus. Arcturus. Black. Name mean anything to Horcrux-hunters? You have a false idea. When you have a true idea I am quite sure everyone you have come in contact with will expire on the spot from shock. I wonder even with a Potter friend and a wife who is Senior Assistant to the Head of Magical Law Enforcement, how you ever became an Auror.”

“Bugger off, Snape. Don't expect me to feel sorry for some decaying Death Eater kid. And never sorry for you. I take back the invitation if all you are going to do is sneer and scowl from your hiding spot like some weird crab in its shell.”

“How eloquent. Your depth and breadth of feeling astonishes me. Who ever knew you were such a mental giant? You put your wife to shame.” _I look over at Hermione, who is laughing with Ginny. Ginny with her lithe, athletic, slender form and vividly red hair. Graceful as the last Mrs Potter. Ronald doesn't know who I am staring at. Or glaring at, I suppose. Everyone accuses me of glowering unless I do my best to look impassive._

“You leave my wife out of this!” _Ronald's ears were pinkish with drink when he came over to me. Now their scarlet hue resembles the Hogwarts Express._

“Predictable, dull, overly protective moron. Or should I call you a maroon?” _Ronald is shaking. I reach over and take two goblets of mead from the plate being offered behind me._

“A toast?” _I ask with both eyebrows raised, speaking in a deeply dangerous tone._

 _Ronald takes the goblet I offer him, looking at it as if it were poison. Like I would attempt it in a house full of Weasel-otters. Harry walks over. Oh, this is precious. I snag another goblet and pass it to Harry._ “We were about to have a toast.”

_Harry touches the goblet gingerly, as if it were some Muggle grenade._

“To the decent among the so-called enemy, and the enemy among the so-called decent. To Regulus Arcturus Black's honour ... and to Hermione Jean Weasley's saintly Clearance procedure.”

 _Ronald is shaking and goes to draw his wand._ “It's merely sarcasm,” _I sneer at him, my new black cotton robes with the hint at entwined serpents at the neck having a nice wand pocket that is enchanted both for protection and easy access._ “A little humour.” _Harry's eyes are penetrating_. “Please Potter, do attempt Legilimency. I have sufficient experience to melt your minuscule mind.”

_Harry steps back and looks nauseated, disgusted._

“You loved my mother? And she didn't take off your pants?” _Harry hisses like a goose. Low blow. Very low._

“Your father passed on the idiocy gene and the bravery of a thousand coward's deaths for you to live out in your lifetime, any time someone mentions the Dark Lord's legacy or the Neo Death Eaters.”

“You'd know about that wouldn't you, Snape?”

“Especially as you took me seriously. There are no such things. You are vapid as a love potion in the hands of Romilda Vane.” _I pause._ “Gullible, very gullible, Potter. You may be of age and beyond, but you are ever the repugnant child who has no use for decency and order. No, it is beneath you as is everything. And they call Lucius entitled.”

 _There is a sound of a pot being banged with a large metal spoon, like a gong._ “Dinner! Dinner everyone. And presents for all, to be opened after dinner.”

_I am guessing I am not “all.”_

_I sit next to Sirius, and Bill is on one side of me. Bill never could stand me and I decide to say nothing to him but give him the occasional dark glance with a lip curled. I look at George. He catches my eye and smiles. What odd behaviour for a Weasel. I see him catching Sirius' eye and looking sheepish. Molly beams at me too. What is their problem? Can't they be consistent in the least?_

_The dinner is interminable. Molly has had a few drinks and asks us if we want_ “Tooding after the Purkey _” or whether we want a break to digest before the_ “Pudding, my mistake, after the turkey.” _The mass of Weasleys gets louder and louder. I wince._

 _Sirius nudges me._ “I can see that keeping your silence is not a Weasley trait. Never was. But what a noisy lot. They're not well-mannered at the table, either, but I suppose we must withstand the hordes for decency's sake. That and there are people I care about here.” _He jerks his head to indicate Andromeda, Harry and Ron in turn. I agree with his first choice, but he can keep the last two out of three. I pick at the food on my plate and try to tune out Christmas cheer and endless Quidditch talk._  
“Sorry, Sev, it'll be over soon enough.” _Sirius looks at me with slate grey eyes that seem too understanding. Perhaps I enjoy my nearly solitary world? Eyes of a dog, an eager mutt, I look away before I see a tail wagging._

_I couldn't eat much, but I rarely can. Especially since we had Christmas dinner last night. Everyone agrees to wait until after the dancing for the pudding, which to my relief won't be a flaming Christmas pudding, but treacle tart to please the Potter brat._

_The one thing that unites a Potter and a Prince: treacle tart.  
I rise before everyone else, avoiding the present opening, making for the toilet, but really just wishing to escape the glares I received and the looks George and Molly gave me with their condescending pity. _

_I would like nothing better than to Disapparate or Floo out of this house of cretins. I glower and wait, sending off vibes that state clearly that anyone within twelve feet of me will be hexed. I would rather be almost anywhere else._

_Hermione is approaching, I dare not hex her. Why doesn't she stay at pudding forever?_

“Headmaster,” _she says with a curt nod. She oozes efficiency. No wonder they like this Muddleborn Memory Machine._

“Rising star of the Ministry,” _I sneer delicately._

“I hear you think Clearance is some kind of joke. It's a very real part of an open regime.”

“An open wound perhaps. You know what I wrote in _The Practical Potioneer's_ opinion column. Discrimination for a noble cause sums up the ideas of many a Dark wizard. My friend Regulus died because of such a cause. You reverse it and the same will happen to you. One can only oppress people for so long before one is opposed.”

“It's not discrimination. It's keeping tabs on purebloods, Slytherins, former Death Eaters and attempts at new Dark wizardry. That's hardly unfair given the past history...and don't threaten me. I am in the position to make threats, but you notice I don't.” _The angry goose effect again only this time it's Hermione instead of Harry hissing and jutting out her head on her long neck. I smile my amusement. She'd spot most subtle hexes and I'd love to give her ingrown eyelashes. She'd know. Smirking at her and watching the effect of it is approximately equal to a hex._

“You're much too kind,” _I say very softly, dangerously in a carrying voice. A few people – Ginny, Fleur and Andromeda – turn to see what the fuss is about, watching us from the table._

“You're right, I am. If I were not you wouldn't be Headmaster.” _Here eyes are aglow with that strange manic fervour she gets for her pet projects._

“Remember what happened the last time the Ministry attempted to interfere at Hogwarts, in your Fifth year? Do you wish for a repeat?”

_Hermione flushes, and balls her small hands into fists. I smirk some more. Enjoyable, really._

_I give her a gloating smile and look for another place to stand where I won't be interrupted in my dark musings._

_I find a likely dark and quiet spot, in a corner where the light is dim. After standing and observing for a minute, I hear Charlie and Bill muttering about my robes. The silent serpent, I, stand here waiting to strike anyone who comes near. The horrid noise of a certain popular singing sorceress reaches my ears. Warbeck. No one will be fool enough to ask me to dance. I glare at Ginny's hair as she strides across the extended dance floor in search of an easy target. The same haircut, the same willowy form, but her eyes are a merciful caramel brown. Have I to stop scowling? Give me a reason._

_~Sirius~_

_George has thrown me strange, questioning looks during the meal. He seems to want to talk to me, but waits for the right moment. When we rise to listen to the unavoidable Celestina Warbeck on the WWN, he pulls me into a corner._

“Sirius, I don't know... Snape said I should just ask you. Do you mind, if I attend your brother's funeral?” _He looks relieved to have it out at last._

_I look thoughtful. I've been determined not to have them around. I've promised it to Severus, 'Regulus' friends and family'._

_But George just like Molly knows. Perhaps he can even understand. I try to explain._

“ You mean well and you do understand what it means to miss a brother. I want people to be there, because of Regulus, not because of me. Are you sure you want to attend the funeral of a loyal Death Eater, pureblood supremacist Slytherin?”

 _George is stunned._  
“But he turned against Voldemort in the end. Harry and Ron told us about it. He died trying to stop Voldemort.”

“I know what Harry told you. He told me the same, but I think I knew my brother better. Regulus turned against Voldemort because he realised that Voldemort had betrayed everything he believed in. He was an idealist, believed in fairy tales far older than Beedle's stories for children. A decent lad, yes; loyal and brave; in many ways braver than I was and certainly more kind-hearted.” I get lost in though. There was a time I believed in the same fairy tales, but I preferred Gwydion and Cuchulainn to Math and Merlin. I continue talking more to myself than to George. “I was almost two years his senior, but he was the one who kept looking after me, trying to keep me out of trouble, comforting me. He accepted the responsibility I ran away from.”

_George has listened quietly trying to understand the sentimental nonsense._

“Whatever he was he must have been someone special the way you talk about him. I trust your judgement and I'd like to learn more another day.”

“You can meet him one day. Hasn't Harry told you about the sketch Severus gave me for Christmas? I must warn you Regulus wasn't too fond of carrot head blood traitors. He's met your Prewett uncles once or twice.”

“Harry said the sketch was a bit confused, stuck at 15 years old or something.”

“Yes, it'll take a while until we get him up to date with the latest events, but he is less confused than Harry may think. Anyway, I think we've made it through the official entertainment part. Bill has turned on some dance music. Your wife is looking for you.”

“Don't be so gleeful. Since Harry has managed to convince everyone that he has two left feet, you won't stand a chance to escape my sister.”

_He's right. Ginny has joined Angelina and both are heading towards us. We let them drag us to the magically expanded free space which appeared in the middle of the room. Bill and Fleur are already dancing and Vicky on Arthur's arm is clapping her little hands in joy. Neither George nor I really mind the kidnapping. Ginny and Angelina are wonderful dancers. I swirl Ginny's Quidditch-trained, slender body around to a wild polka tune. She's laughing, her long red hair flying through the air. I'm painfully reminded how very much like Lily she looks in such moments. Not that I had the chance to dance with Lily very often, James watched her like a Gringotts dragon._

_Like Lily! I haven't seen Severus for a while. He let George talk to me and Ginny dragged me away before I could make out where he was._

_The polka is over and I make my excuse to the disappointed Ginny._

“It's been a hard day. I'm an old man, have mercy.”

_I search for Sev. Darkest, far off corner, looking like one of the stone gargoyles which guard the entrance to the Headmaster's Office, the aura of 'don't come near me' seems almost like a real physical barrier around him. Gryffindors are not afraid of poisonous snakes!_

_I walk up to his side._ “Fulfilled my social duties for tonight. I'm free to enjoy more pleasant company.”

_I'm very grateful that there aren't any wandless, non-verbal, lethal curses. Not that I know...._

_~Severus~_

_I glower at Sirius. He must know. He seems reticent with me. “I think I will be going now. I am quite sick of Weasel-otters. I have not been the least prickly hedgehog, but only in a perfectly fitting response to what surrounds me. Are you coming, or at least coming soon?”_

_Sirius relaxes as I don't mention Lily. Then I turn and snarl,_  
“You had to dance with her like that didn't you? Like she was a wand, an extension of your arm. I don't pity your dancing skills, you can dance. I cannot. I am grateful she did not come to me at least. And you know who I am thinking of.” I give off waves of forced solitude, feeling I can't take much more of the red waves of hair, which I imagine has the scent of lavender...

“Ginny has brown eyes. Lil...” _I turn on Sirius like a bear protecting her cubs. I snarl at him,_ “Don't mention her name again tonight or I will hex you to oblivion in utter silence. And stay away from Ginny Potter. When I back down, you back down and we will return to a state of ... normalcy.”

_Arthur has spotted the way I have Sirius cornered and rushes over to intervene, with his own agenda I am sure. Sirius didn't back down. I haven't yet. He does give me a grimace and a shake of his mongrel's head. I refuse to back down, so does he. Arthur has arrived, bearing a smile and something small in his hand._

“Newest addition to the plug collection. This one comes from one of those fantastic personal computers. The kind of machine that can do maths I hear. Would you care to inspect the rest of my plug collection? _” I shake my head but Sirius looks delighted. Anything to get away from the token Slytherin? No, he looks at me expectantly. I grit my teeth as Sirius drags at my sleeve. “_ Fine, I'll go!” _I snap. Anything to get rid of the guilt I feel at snarling at Sirius. Normally it wouldn't matter, but this time it wasn't warranted._

_~Sirius~_

_Arthur, our saviour! If he had not intervened, I might have said things I regretted. Harry is not James and Ginny is not Lily and for tonight at least I am glad about it. Sev looks like he's going to hex the next person who speaks to him. I wouldn't mind, but we don't need any more trouble today. At least he doesn't offer much resistance. Charlie winks as we pass him. We sneak out of the back door, over the yard and into Arthur's work shed. I slump onto a wooden crate and pull Sev down onto the one beside me. Arthur throws the plug he showed us into a box under the shelves and pulls out a large bulbous bottle. I conjure three earthenware goblets which he fills with a golden liquid. The sweet smell of apples fills the air._

_Severus hesitates. He hasn't really thought we'd be looking at plugs, has he?_

“Drink. It's not poison. Good old home-made cider, just the thing we need.”

“Those we love and a place to hide from them.” _Arthur declares._

_I laugh, at Arthur with whom I spent many an hour here in the summer, at Severus who still seems to have trouble to get that he's not the only one who needed a break from an overdose of red hair._

“Those we don't need to hide from.” _I look at Severus hoping he understands. He doesn't answer, but Arthur speaks._

“If you'd trusted me enough to tell me about your plans yesterday, I've made excuses for tonight. You both don't feel like having a party. You can disapparate from behind the pig pen.”

_Severus' face brightens up immediately. I'd felt the same, if not..._

“What about Harry? He won't...”

“Leave him to Molly. She's already told him what she thinks of keeping you from recovering your brother's body.”

_Severus already stands and I rise, too._

“Thanks, you can't imagine what this means to us.”

“It's all right. Off you go!”

_We run over to the pig pen avoiding the lights coming from the house and Disapparate._


	62. Severus/Sirius: Dark Wizards, Dogs and Drinks

~Severus~

_We have apparated to the filthy square of Grimmauld Place. Number 12 never looked more welcome. Not even when it was the hotspot for nefarious spying, and was the one escape from the Dark Lord. One place he never came. I hated “Black” being there, and now it is welcome precisely because Black **is** there. I won't tell Sirius that. I feel grateful to Arthur as I speed up my steps. I overtake Sirius, who is striding along lightly like an elf of Tolkien fame. He seems as happy of the escape as I._

_ I allow him first entrance, being his house. My mind is back with Regulus. I step forward and stumble. Looking down, I see gold and scarlet tinsel woven together, woven with small roaring lion heads where my shoelaces once were. I grimace and Sirius claps me on the back.  _ “Wasn't me! _ ” he said. “ _ It was Padfoot, I swear! _ ” _

_I snicker softly, wondering when revenge would come. Sirius barks, and the bark is twice as humorous because 'Padfoot did it'... my snicker turns to a laugh. I don't have a nice laugh. I have a low, sneering laugh that suddenly appeared when I was fifteen. I wonder why, in all snark. I stop laughing and Sirius does too._

“Would you like Kreacher to make tea?” S _irius asks as the house-elf appears. Kreacher looks expectant. “_ Jasmine for a change,” I tell Kreacher, and he bows low, and asks, “And for Master?” 

Sirius smiles. “Just tea. Black tea. Or Darjeeling. Surprise me, Kreacher, one or the other.”

Kreacher trots from the room in his towel. He is more like the old family elf I knew from the few extended periods I was here as a boy. I know he wasn't pleasant to Sirius, but that recommended him to me at the time. I shake my head as we enter the shadowy kitchen. The scrubbed wooden board shortly has a cup of Jasmine tea and my non-wand arm lying on the table, and two booted feet and two cups of tea, Kreacher brought both types, with a plate of crumpets.

“It's too late for crumpets,” I growl. Kreacher looks ashamed. “It's too late for anything but a chat with Regulus before we go to sleep. See how he's coming along.” I look at Sirius.

“Kreacher used to sneak me crumpets at night, when Reggie told him to. There's a reason for everything.” _He turns to Kreacher._ “You're a good elf, you don't have to listen to nasty old Snape - unless he asks you to.” _Kreacher tries to understand this human nonsense and I have somehow hurt the elf. Human feelings are easy to walk on, elf feelings quite another._ “Good elf indeed.” _No sarcasm. No irony. Not a sneer. But he takes it as such. He just looks more confused. I always end up wounding where I mean to help. I scowl at the floor and want everyone - Sirius and Regulus' portrait especially – far away where I can't hurt them._

 _The polished and copper pots gleam, the heavy iron pans glow dully. Sirius puts a hand on my shoulder but my muscles tense and I jerk away._ “I'm not looking forward to it either, though there are some things I would like to know.” _He's walking away from the table, and I understand that to mean talking to Regulus._

 _We go upstairs and locate the portraits across from the Sitting room fireplace. Phineas Nigellus is in his frame. Regulus is as well. They must have heard us arrive. “Sirius? Severus?” he flits into a portrait of the hounds depicted on the Black Family Crest, and he scratches a sighthound's ear, looking a bit irritable._ “Where the hell did you go? Not with the Prewetts?”  
“They're Weasleys,” _ Sirius says patiently. _   
“What? Oh you said. But they're the biggest lot of blood-traitors...”

“Things are different.” _I say curtly._ “What was white is black. The chess game reversed on itself.”

“Nothing can change that much. Or maybe yes. My world is crazy. Severus, go to a social thing at a carrot-tops' place? And leave me alone on Christmas Eve? And Sirius, since when do you decorate the house in house colours? My house colours?”

“Who says I decorated?” _Sirius says stiffly, hiding a smile._ “OK fine, I decorated to the tastes of the family. Not too much, though. Ask Severus how I decorated his shoes this fair Eve.” _Sirius nudges me and winks. I struggle not to roll my eyes and curse him._

“Severus, Sirius, why did you bring me out? Why didn't you leave me to my sleep? Life is so much easier in a twilit world. You know that saying, “Nothing is true. Everything is permitted,” you taught me, Severus? Well, I hate it and that's what life looks like. From what Phineas Nigellus has told me, everyone that matters is dead or in Azkaban.” _Regulus lifted a finger in his frame. “_ The Malfoys and Flints and Notts are all right, Montague's OK, but Andy and you Sirius are the only close family alive. You know where this leaves me?” _Regulus' voice grows louder and higher, to almost a wail._ “Looks like if they could they'd stick my bloody portrait in Azkaban! Mother and Father gone! It's terror all over!”

“We brought your body back from the cave it was in. Did Phineas tell you that?” I say too brusquely.

“Ph-ph-ineas told me you went on a mission to get my body from a place riddled with Dark magic.”

“Riddle and Dark magic had something to do with it,” _Sirius mutters._ “We brought it back, and you should know because you can tell me who you wish to be... at your... funeral.”

“At my funeral...” _Regulus' voice drifts away. He picks at a corner of his portrait. Something of a pattern with him, the drawing is frayed but the parchment is still in place. At your own funeral, Reg._

“Well, I just mentioned everyone left I care about. And is Professor Slughorn still around? Horace the Embarrassing? He might like to come.”

“He's always around. He's more cunning an old coot than most people realise.” _I grimace_. “I hate to say anything good about him, but he'd be glad to attend. He certainly liked you more than me.”

Sirius snorts. “You sound like a thirteen-year-old, Severus. Who likes who better?”

I snort right back. “Would it matter to you if Harry liked me more than you?”

“Harry Potter you mean? I take it you're talking about the downfall of the wizarding race.” _Regulus sneers. I smile._ “If only it were that simple,” _I say._

“I love Harry, and I wish you wouldn't vilify him. It's no more fair than what Hermione Weasley does.”

 _Regulus and I look at Sirius. I shake my head and so does the depiction of Regulus_. “You go against all sense, Sirius.” _I didn't say it._

“Maybe so, but I fought against worse. And I've experienced Azkaban. I have a well-defined sense of what is right, if not a conventional sense. Voldemort is worse than Harry any day, and you both know it. Stop snickering, Severus. You know better. You put yourself in constant danger to derail his little train of power.”

“Well, well, I never thought you could say such touching things.” _I'm sneering but I don't mean it. I think that they might have noticed._

“Why are you all red, Sev? You really wanted to defeat the Dark Lord?”

“He betrayed all of us. Muggleborns to purebloods. He never lived up to his promises. His actions belied the little speeches and domination in that simple sense, in being master of death- in the end, he was in it for himself, what he could attain, not what wizardkind could attain, you figured it out before long yourself.” _I say coolly._

 _Kreacher coughs at my side. I twitch and turn to him a little. “_ Master Regulus should wear his locket when he is buried,” _sobs the elf,_ “Kreacher will give up his greatest treasure, Master Regulus' locket.” _It's a moan of ecstasy. He could serve no better._  
“Thanks, Kreacher,” _Regulus' portrait says softly, looking at the elf and still trying to swallow my speech. Nothing else has brought home to Regulus the fact that he no longer exists than Kreacher's action._

“Kreacher knows Master Regulus is worthy.”

Regulus sniffs.

~Sirius~

_It is so difficult to explain to a 15-year-old what took us decades to understand and what we still can't handle. Regulus sniffing stops._

“Is Sirius treating you right, Kreacher? You know you can tell me the truth.”

_I look down awaiting the final judgement from my old elf nanny. Kreacher doesn't answer immediately. He looks embarrassed to be asked such a question._

“You heard your master's order. Tell the truth!” _I say hoarsely._

_The elf smiles sheepishly._ “Master Sirius is trying to be a good master. He has come to his senses _._ Like I told my mistress even unruly brats like him grow up one day.”

_I pull his ears and he throw his arms around me. All right, my elf calls me an unruly brat, my friend says 'Mutt'. Whatever, he managed to cheer Reggie up and make even Severus laugh again._

_The next question is equally awkward. “_ What happened to mother and father?”

“Father died just before you finished Hogwarts. Of a natural cause as far as I know.” _I look at Kreacher who merely nods._ “ Mother died in 1986. I don't know how.”

“You don't know? Didn't you even bother to come to their funerals?”

“I had no hope to believe I was welcome, when father died and on mother's death I was …. indisposed.”

“Hope you had fun with Potter!”

“Regulus, that's enough. Sirius was...” _Severus sounds exasperated with both of us. He looks at me, but I look away._ “Sirius was sent to Azkaban in 1981 for having betrayed the Potters to the Dark Lord.”

“BOLLOCKS! What idiot believed that?”

_I snigger, when Severus replies:_ “I did.”

“You have been in good company.” _I try to laugh, but there's still some bitterness. If only one of my friends had reacted like Regulus just had!_ “I think we've established a while ago that we were both.... the biggest fools who managed to get away alive and free. Regulus, you were much smarter than we were and figured out that great wizards are only out for themselves and their own noble plans when we both were still too blind to see.” 

“Can someone please explain to me in short what happened? The Dark Lord promised to bring back the old times when magic was respected and to teach us spells beyond our imagination. True wizards should be judged by their abilities, not buy their way to the highest positions. That's what got you hooked, Severus. Tradition and family values should be renewed like grandfather Arcturus taught us. I don't understand.”

_I look at Severus who gestures for me to start._

“All right, I'll try to put it together. Severus, Kreacher, please interrupt me, if I go wrong. You joined the Dark Lord,” _Severus raises his eyebrows at my use of the title. I shrug; it's easier to talk to Regulus in his own terms than to start another pointless discussion about saying Voldemort. “_ in summer 1978. I guess along with your older roommates. “ _Severus nods in confirmation._ “At the same time James, Lily and I joined the Order of the Phoenix. You had still one year at Hogwarts, so I guess you didn't really get involved in real action before the next year.” _Severus confirms again and I continue to recall the events as I understood them from Harry's tale. Regulus listens without interrupting me until I tell him that Voldemort used Kreacher to test his potion and left him to die in the cave._

“He left Kreacher to die? But that's against everything we believed in! Kreacher is a family elf!”

“One more thing 'the Dark Lord knew not' or did not care about.” _I leave out the details about the Inferi. He doesn't need to know. It doesn't matter anyway because I think Kreacher's protective spells prevented the curse to work._

“He never found out what I had done? Mother and Kreacher have been safe all those years?”

“Yes, your death protected them.” _Severus throws in._ “We knew you were dead, but none of us seriously suspected that you turned against the Dark Lord. Your family was safe.”

“Shouldn't you continue the tale? I only know it second hand.”

_Severus shakes his head._ “You are the one raised on stories, continue. I step in, when you make it too much of a fairy tale.”

“The following spring a prophecy was made which announced the coming of 'the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord'. Part of it was overheard and reported.”

“Sirius, I said no fairy tales. I overheard the prophecy and reported it to my master.” _Severus smiles at my attempt to downplay his responsibility._ “ I was promised a generous reward for my service the safety of Lily Evans, now Potter.”

“You were still on about that silly Muddleborn? Even after she married Potter? Biggest fools is the understatement of the century to describe you two.”

“Reggie, hold it for a minute.” _I'm trying to make sense of what Severus just said._ “Severus, you asked for Lily's life just after reporting the prophecy? Why on earth didn't you tell Dumbledore, when he called you disgusting? You had no reason to care about James' safety or even think that he was in any danger except the one he got himself in at this point of time. Harry wasn't yet born. You still cared about a friend who had dropped you years ago. That's not disgusting; that's bloody loyal!”

_Severus stares at me as if he lost the ability to understand plain English and Regulus taps his quill on the parchment._

“Sev was absolutely mad about Evans, not one clear thought in his mind when it came to her. He was even worse than you about Potter if that was possible. You were both pathetic!“

“Regulus don't talk about....! _Severus and I cry out simultaneously and stop at the same time, noticing that we're just confirming what he said._

“So grown up, impressing, both of you!” 

“May I continue with the tale or do you want to pick on us a bit more?” 

_Regulus makes a generous gesture for me to carry on._

“ The prophecy had announced the birth of Voldemort's, the Dark Lord's” _I correct myself as Reggie flinches._ “adversary for the end of coming July. In the following months, nothing important happened except the usual Muggle- and Muggle-born baiting got slightly worse. Lily and Alice Longbottom were expecting, but we had no idea that this would change everything. Dumbledore to whom the prophecy was made never mentioned it to anyone in the Order. It was only after the two boys were born, one on the 30th of July and one on the 31th that he warned the parents of an increased danger. We didn't take that warning too seriously. Honestly, we all had been on the Death Eaters' list for years. The Longbottoms were Aurors and James and I had done one or two things to annoy your Dark Lord and all of us had told him where to stick it when he asked us to join.” _Severus throws me a sidewards glance._ “Oh, come on, you didn't really think that they had not tried to win the 'Pureblood elite' of our generation? Lucius made more than one attempt to convince us and once even your master gave us a speech about all the wonderful opportunities which would await us if we joined him. Reggie, I have a pretty good idea what he promised you. It might have tempted me if I believed one word.”

_Severus looks slightly hurt. Had they promised him revenge on his school enemies, while secretly trying to recruit us? Regulus however smiles and the next words he scribbles shock Severus even more._

“You hardly could resist the temptation of learning some more advanced magic as long as it wasn't too Dark for your taste. Remember what I once told you? Severus wasn't more of a Dark Wizard than you are.”

“Kick me I'm a Dark Wizard.” Severus _growls._

“You looked like one. I didn't. Think whatever you want of me, James never got involved in the Dark Arts. He hated them! Luckily he never suspected or recognised them easily. I've told you I'm qualified for the job you offered, haven't I?”

“You're as much of a hypocrite as Dumbledore.”

_I glare back at him._ “No, I'm not. It just happened. I read everything available on my parents' bookshelves before Hogwarts. Our father encouraged us. He always laughed about what he called 'Ridiculous Restriction of Underage Magic'. I never used the Dark Arts. There was no need. Though I guess the idiots from the Ministry might disagree about where to draw the line.”

_Severus shakes his head._ “Spoiled, arrogant Purebloods!”

_I grin sheepishly._ “I think it's your turn to continue. I couldn't figure out when exactly you turned spy for Dumbledore or what happened next.”

_Severus obliges and tells his part of the story as quickly as possible. It's still hard for him to recall those events. As hard as it's for me to remember how clueless we were kept by Dumbledore about what was going on._

“.... when Lily died to protect Harry some kind of Ancient Magic was evoked and the Avada Kedavra cast to kill Harry backfired. The Dark Lord's body died. Harry Potter survived marked. Everyone believed Sirius had been the Potters' Secret Keeper and he was arrested the following day, while he tried to catch the real traitor, Peter Pettigrew. We thought.... we hoped that was the end of it, but Dumbledore insisted it wasn't and he made me promise to protect Lily's son when the Dark Lord returned. He finally did in 1995 and Potter managed to defeat him two years ago.”

_Some of the things he said are new to me and help me to make sense of details I haven't understood so far. I long to ask a few questions, but Reggie already looks confused._

“The Dark Lord dead, blood traitors and Mudbloods in charge? Are you going to do something about it?”

“Regulus, the other way round was worse and we both need...” _Severus smiles sardonically._ “ to be careful that they do not withdraw our clearance.”

“Very careful indeed.” _I concur smugly._ “I think I'm quite content for a start to be a pain in their back. That and the happy thought that Voldemort and Dumbledore rotate in their graves that we are alive.”

  


~Severus~

“You two! Enough with the blame and the shame. The Dark Lord could have found ways to attack your precious James and precious Lily no matter what and Dumbledore was really such a jerk. You trust anything he tells you then you're almost as stupid as trusting what the Dark Lord tells you. I can see we three have the past, but can't we leave it behind? Just for now?” _Regulus sounds very, very exasperated. I see the sense in what he says._

“What is done is done and there is no point apportioning blame when there is no way to travel back to the past and change it...not even with a time turner.” _I let my fingers stray to a deep pocket and hold the round object I have always refused to use since Seventh year_. “No setting time back can erase the past.”  
“Spoken like a true book,” _Regulus snickers._ “It's Christmas Eve, time to put things behind us. A toast to the future?”

“Kreacher! Please fetch the vodka and orange juice, the 26-ounce bottle _.” Kreacher nods, and I notice he has left Regulus' locket behind on the chair he stood next to._ “Shame the under-age brats can't celebrate with the adults.” _Sirius' eyes glint with mischief. Kreacher practically sprinted in order to obey quickly._

“You wait! I know this house too you know.” _He stops stroking a tan and white greyhound and dashes through the portraits out of the room, leaving Sirius and I stymied. I wonde_ r, “Are there any pictures with alcohol in them?”

“The one of Cygnus and Druella on the grass with a large glass of sherry, on the second-floor landing.” Sirius answers at once. “I bet he did go there. If he's going to drink, I certainly will. Why not forget for tonight, Severus? Let that greasy hair down?”

_I growl at Sirius, baring my teeth. My canines, even. I feel my hands clench and unclench but I can't seem to control them._ “Cease and desist putting me down or I shall have put you down so far you're six feet under.” _I'm touchier than usual. I blame the conversation and the nerves I have jangling beneath the control, which I know can break so easily. Wouldn't vodka just make me worse, as it did my father?_

“Whoa. Down, boy. You give Padfoot shoddy competition though.” _Sirius bares his own teeth in a grin, as Kreacher trots back into the room with a number of glasses, vodka and orange juice. Regulus slinks through three portraits to get back to the hounds. He's not holding a glass of sherry, but rather a gargantuan bottle. I look at Sirius. Sirius looks at me._  
“Are you two willing to witness whatever may come of my intoxication?” _I ask shortly._

“Sev's getting drunk! Yay! That means I can too!” _Regulus grins as he writes, fingering his bottle lovingly._

“And I am not going to put up with you two's nonsense by remaining sober. I'm not afraid of venom.” _Sirius picks up the vodka bottle._ “Remember how mother would allow you a glass of wine at Christmas dinner and never me? From the time you turned eleven. They didn't trust the lion.” _Sirius considers the vodka bottle, raises the orange juice and then chucks the orange juice into the rubbish_.

“You can't dislike mother and father that much that you have no positive memories of our home Christmas before you started running off to the Potters.” _Regulus opens the sherry bottle._

“Everything old is new again,” _I say._ “One type of past is bad, one type good. Selectively search for the positive. Classifications of negative and positive emotions. Sounds like nonsense.”  
“Right up your street, then,” _Regulus laughs as he takes a swig and chokes on the sweetness and alcohol._ “Come on, you came here, too when you were fourteen. You couldn't go home and didn't want to stay at Hogwarts without Lily. I convinced you.”

“I remember the way those biscuits danced...” _I say. Sirius nods._ “Mother was always so good at producing marzipan and honey-almond cookies. You did a good job yourself.”

_I turn away, flushing. I want to blame the exaggerated cookie scene on the elf._

_I watch Sirius pour two ounces each into two small glasses rather like square water glasses. He passes me one and I give it a sniff, thinking of Russian potatoes. It smells like it could degrease engines._

_I drink it in one, a hissing noise escaping me after I swallow._ “Was that Snake Fluid, Severus?” _I notice Regulus has written. I still feel lucid. Not much used to alcohol. A moment later an idea comes to me and I whisper a special version of the Sonorous spell._  
“Speak using your tongue. I'm sick to death of reading your writing.” _I sneer._

“What?” _Regulus scribbles._  
“Just try to speak.”

“...out loud. Out loud! I can speak our loud like a regular portrait! I can hear myself. I was so lonely .... thank you, Severus!” _Regulus looks a little choked but then he is one fifth finished a large bottle of sherry._  
“I did it for me as much as you, I hate your handwriting.” _I smirk at Reg and enjoy the voice of my boyhood friend._

“There you go, unable to accept that you're really a nice person.” _Regulus winks. Sirius laughs, and I snort. Sirius seems touched at hearing Regulus again. Is this alcohol? I take another vodka. We forgot our toast._

“To Sirius, the best friend a man could have. _” I raise a glass, looking into Sirius' grey eyes. I know he's thinking of James without Legilimency. I trust the others will make toasts._  
“To family, and honour and decency!” _Regulus waves his sherry though the air._

“To Regulus and Severus. What I almost missed out on for far too long.” _Sirius is sad-looking. He weaves where he sits, on his fourth quick shot of vodka. I see a tear leak down his face._

_I look away._ “That was an interesting experience being here in my youth, Reg. It was so very much opposite to home. The decorations in silver and green, the carols, the willingness of your parents to let use magic here, the tapestry's life, the way if I asked a question I got an answer. Chasing Andy and Cissy with handfuls of rodents from the alley, Bellatrix and her mad laugh that was still a laugh to hear back then...”

_We all fall silent._ “It's time! Listen for the Carillon! It's ringing twelve o'clock! Happy Christmas!” _Sirius' tear is forgotten, and he starts to laugh maniacally. Howling, barking mad, I think, smirking._

_Dong, dong, dong....the Carillon and the distant Big Ben._

 

~Sirius~

_I turn to open the window and let the Muggle sounds in, bells and squeaky sounds from the neighbours' houses, carols, pop songs and classic music. The songs haven't changed since I was a boy. The rain has stopped and the cold air increases the funny effect of the vodka._

“We've forgotten to draw straws, Sirius.” _calls Regulus from the wall. I'm still startled by the fact that the sketch suddenly can speak._

“No need to! There's only one choice.” _I light the star on top of the tree._ “Regulus, brightest star of the constellation Leo.”

“Can anyone tell me what this is about?” _Severus asks exasperatedly._

“Black family tradition. Each year we drew straws to name the star after one of us, Bellatrix, Andromeda, Sirius or me.”

“Everyone else not named after a star excluded. How very nice and typically Black.”

“You have a Roman wall bearing your name the whole year. Very fitting, if you ask me.”

_Severus eyes turn to slits._ “Oh yes, the boys at primary school were very impressed.”

“You went to a Muggle school? What was it like? I wanted to go so much, but Mother wouldn't allow it.”

“Imagine you are the only wizard, a strange looking oddball and the Muggles were all like you and your friends.”

 

“Little girls in dressing gowns, cut your hair or wear pigtails? A black eye changed their view on us dramatically. You take those things too personally. You always did. Can you imagine how many stupid jokes I've heard about my name? Even James…”

“Sure, it's all my own fault, isn't it? Taking it too personally. I should have laughed, when you called me Snivellus.”

“Sev, it's Christmas! You can call me siriusly disturbed and I promise not to call you Snivellus ever again. Deal?”

“You are seriously disturbed, Mutt!”

_I turn into Padfoot and jump around him, stubbing him with my nose and then I sit down in front of him wagging my tail. Regulus is squealing with glee._

“Sev, I think you've got to take the dog out for a walk.”

_Severus sighs, but only in jest. I roll on the floor at his feet. He is not exactly sober anymore, just like me._

“All right, before something indecent happens. Fetch your collar and leash, Padfoot!”

_I run into the hall and get both, unpleasant necessity in a Muggle environment._

_Severus puts it around my neck, not too tight. He is nice to animals._

“Stop jumping, dog! Where's the muzzle?”

_I growl and he laughs._

 

_~Severus~_

_I put a few fingers under the collar to test laxness, then attach the leash. Regulus whistles, and shouts, “_ Good luck keeping him away from the midnight bitches!”  _I look at him quizzically. “_ It's Christmas Eve. We need not worry about many canine harlots. _” I can't contain a sneer but Regulus merely waves and says_ “Have fun!”

_As I leave the room I feel like an idiot. That's Padfoot, that's Sirius, I can never get over how they can be one being in two bodies. He's a dog so I'll be kind. Dogs are loyal to those they like, and to judge by the frantic wagging of the tail and the licking of my hand and his nose halfway up my sleeve, I take it he likes me._

_He's pulling on the lead as we exit the front door; he's straining to get out. I can guess why. I keep fumbling with the leash and weave very slightly as we walk to the centre of the square where there is a bit of brown winter grass between the snowy patches and two trees. As we get nearer he pulls.  
_ “Siri---Padfoot! Behave yourself!” _I growl._

_More pulling._

“Heel!” _I say firmly. He walks docile at my side, never passing my knee. I wish I had more experience of dogs. I think of my cat Alexi and think I'd prefer Padfoot. But then, stopping at one of the trees, he raises his leg and pees on not only the tree but my right leg. He's...never trust a drunken dog!_

“Scourgify!” _I clean up the mess quickly and Padfoot whines as I swear and snarl at him. I hate making dogs whine. They're so preferable to people._

_I have a tube container I was planning to give to Sirius so I may as well do it in style. Give Padfoot something to carry, give him some pride as he trots like a horse.  
“_ Defence course syllabus and calendar and time outline, for you to carry until you become Sirius. Hold on.”  _I pass the small light brown tube down and he carries it gladly. I walk him through the dimly lit streets, most houses black as the children wait for their stockings. I think about childhood stockings. Ha. I don't notice that we have come to another square, this one more green and that Padfoot is straining on his leash again. A rat? No, he has to...do his business. I let him off the leash to do it, and he turns three circles and humps over and I look away. I use Evanesco again. Smelly. I'd hate to be a Muggle or surrounded by Muggles and have to scoop manually._

_He nuzzles me, panting, carrying his message like a heroic war dog. I stumble a bit. The vodka is still hitting me like a padded boot to the head, and war dog makes me think of Odo the Hero, and his song._

_I sing aloud...and Siri---Padfoot, howls along. We sing and howl seven verses until we reach:_

“And Odo the hero, they bore him back home

To the place that he'd known as a lad

They laid him to rest with his hat inside out,

And his wand snapped in two which was sad.”

_There's a fair amount of slurring in my song and I hear someone yell “_ Shut up, lugless hound!”  _from the window of a nearby tenement house. I check and make sure the panting dog hasn't forgotten to pick up his “stick”. Then I vomit everywhere and Padfoot sniffs it. I drag him away from it, using Evanesco once again and follow the path I took, reversing my steps back to Grimmauld Place._

_Number Twelve. I hear noise as I open the door. It seems Regulus has taken his huge bottle to Phineas and that a few other portraits are in the same frame, boisterous, drunk. The large picture containing the greyhounds. I remove Padfoot's leash._

_I look at Padfoot, surprised by the ruckus. Hogwarts has competition as far as noise goes. He drops the tube and I look and in a second Sirius is shaking his shaggy head at me._

“Well? Wasn't I a good boy?” _he asks._

“Pay attention, mutt. Your parcel. Your eyes only. New Defence Against The Dark Arts regime.”

_Sirius retrieves the package like a good dog._

“You would find a purpose even in drunken meandering _,” he says, grinning. He's still wearing his collar._

 

~Sirius~

_Regulus has invited a few other portraits and they're having a party on the drawing room wall. As we enter a 17 th century witch arrives with a plate of crumpets and her husband has lighted a fire. _

_Under a tree sits another wizard and plays vivacious tunes on his tin whistle. The old hag from opposite father's study has recovered from Corner's attack and dances with the portrait who gave her refuge. The second greyhound from the family crest has joined in. Other ancestors have brought their own provisions and share them generously. There are too many portraits and paintings in this house._

“Phineas! Is this your idea of looking after your youngest grandson? He will feel crumpled-up to the last thread of his canvas by tomorrow.”

_Phineas returns an earthen jug to the Scottish wizard next to him._

“The boy is a Black. He can take a few. Don't be a spoilsport. This is a Slytherin party! Feel honoured to be invited, Gryffindor.”

_The witches and wizards gathered around the fire start chanting._

“Gryffindor! Gryffindor! Let's roast Gryffindors!”

_They put butter and sugar on top of the crumpets and hover them over the flames.._

_Severus lounges in his chair and has another vodka._ “Good idea. Kreacher, where are your crumpets? Let's roast Gryffindors!”

“Where I come from we called it roasting Slytherins.”

“Of course you did. And you probably imagined that we were brewing disgusting draughts and roasted slugs instead.”

“Well yes, what else? You roast a Gryffindor and I a Slytherin and then we swap. What do you think?”

“Haven't your parents taught you anything? Never take food or drink from a potion master.”

_Severus smiles, but as always there's a subtle undertone._

“I think I can take the risk. I've already eaten your biscuits yesterday and survived.”

“Wait until you wake up tomorrow. You may be turned into a bug.”

“Not unless you're George Weasley polyjuiced.”

_Severus pretends to shudder._ “Not another Weasley, please....!”

_Kreacher has brought the earlier dismissed crumpets, butter, sugar, jam, chocolate and black currant syrup. I sit down on the rug by the fire and start preparing the 'Slytherin' for roasting. Severus joins me and prepares his 'Gryffindor'._

_In the portraits one wizard has gotten a fiddle, a witch is clapping spoons and the Scottish wizard has found a bagpipe. He's out of practise, that's for sure. A young witch sings an endless lament for her lost lover on 'The Rock of Azkaban'. Then they turn to merrier tunes. Severus and I exchange our crumpets and lick the sticky mess from our fingers. Placing another set over the fire, trying to surpass each other with the weirdest combination of toppings. We can't turn back time, but we can have fun._

“Sirius, you have chocolate on your nose.”

“So what, the black currant syrup is running up your sleeve.”

_Our own family band on the wall plays jigs and reels at breathtaking speed. 'Rocky Road to Hogwarts' and then they all join to a mad chorus:_

“And whack fol the dah O, dance to your partner  
Welt the floor, your trotters shake,  
Wasn't it the truth I told ya, lots o' fun at Regulus' wake!”

_Regulus sings loudest and only stops to yell at us._ “C'mon Sev! Sirius! Sing along!”

_Who can refuse a dead boy's bidding? Soon we lie on the floor panting. My painted family still makes a noise to raise the dead. Not the dead perhaps, but..._

_When I look up I see a shadow moving in the background of the landscape painting. Regulus has seen her, too. He stops singing and cries out:_ “Mother!”

_He wants to run to her, but Phineas holds him back._

“Give her time. She's not ready, yet. You woke her for tonight. She lost her way long before her death. Now she needs to find it again to come home.”

_She retreats deeper into the trees._

“Sirius, have you seen her? “ _There are tears in his eyes._

“Yes, I've seen her. She has come to you because she loves you. You're her little king.”

“No! She has come for us, both of us. She loves you as much. Look at her! Listen!”

_Listen to what? 'Shame of my flesh'; 'Disgrace to the family'? There's a whisper, the wind moving in the trees, rustling leaves._ “My two cunning little snakes...”

_I can't stop the tear running down my face. That's what she called us before Hogwarts._

_I feel a hand on my shoulder._

“Never doubt Slytherin love.”

_I don't dare to look at Severus._ “Can you teach me Slytherin friendship?”  _I whisper._

_There's a slight increase of pressure, before the hands disappears and the wall of sarcasm is back in place._

“I'm a horrible teacher. Everybody will tell you as much. But maybe I'll try. You seem to have the predisposition.”

“Give it a try, Sev. My brother is not nearly as thick as he pretends to be.”

“Thanks for the compliment, Reggie.”

_The interruption seems to have calmed down the portraits. Some are gathering their stuff and make ready to leave for their own frames. A few have just fallen asleep where they sat. The party is over._

_Severus has mentally piled up stones to repair the breaches in Severus' Wall and is about to leave for bed. The bells strike 3 o'clock. I pull myself together to close the window._

_On the way up the stairs to our rooms I can hear a few portraits humming._

“...lot's of fun at Regulus' wake!”


	63. Severus/Sirius: Owls and Plans

_~Severus~_

 

“Wait,” _I pause at my door and Sirius stops following me. The fact that I'm entering Regulus' room seems a little ... odd. But I have to in order to bring out two phials of potion. I enter the room, snatch up my black leather case and come back into the hall. Sirius watches me move about with interest dulled by alcohol. I'm getting a headache already._

 

“Kreacher! Come here!” _I call and the elf appears bewildered at my knee._ “Can you paint the contents of this potion in large amounts into the portrait of Phineas Nigellus? Can you do it now?” _Kreacher looks at the phials, both stoppered, one greenish one a brownish-grey. He nods his head._ “Yes, Master Snape.”

 

“It should keep him busy handing out Sobering Solution to the other portraits and Hangover Remedy to those too dim-witted to accept the first tonight when they complain in the morning.” _Kreacher nods vigorously, a strange smile on his face._ “You are an exceptional elf. Run and do it as quickly as you can, before the portraits are all asleep.”

 

 _The second potion is basically caffeine with a few added tweaks, but there was a little foolish wand-waving involved in these specific mixtures. The elf hurries down the stairs. Sirius is smirking. I do that, not him._ “What?” _I snap at him, massaging my temples._

 

“You just gave away pure gold and left us with nothing.” _Sirius says._

 

“Don't be such a massive dunderhead. Of course, I can provide. I always make doubles of my essential stores.” _Sirius waits as I enter Reg's room again and retrieve the Sobering Solution. We both take a measured gulp. Sirius smiles as the effects of the drink is dispelled._

 

“I had no idea Kreacher was an artist,'' _he says after a long pause where I thank sweet Salazar that I brought a potion that is normally worthless to me. I consider Kreacher's case._

 

“He can do whatever he is ordered, within limits of possible magic, that's my impression.” _I shrug, Useful elf._ “Now get to bed. Knowing what Regulus thinks of you, you'd talk half the night...the other half of the night...and never let me sleep. I get irritated when I don't sleep well.”

 

“I wouldn't know what it's like for you to be irritable, Severus, you're generally such a sparkling, vivacious and bubbly person.”

 

_I wince as I fed him half those words about me, sarcastically of course._

 

“Good night... good riddance until tomorrow,” _I snarl. He's already turning away and I slip into Regulus' room where there aren't any portraits. Smart boy. I pull the jeans and black shirt off and fold them in a corner of the dresser. I pull on my rather boring nightshirt and throw Regulus' sheets and a woollen blanket over me. Sobering Solution contains more than a touch of Valerian Root and Chamomile. I am asleep within five minutes._

 

***

 

_I make my way downstairs. Sleep was spotty. I feel distinctly foul-tempered and hope that I don't have to deal with idiocy. I hope Kreacher was able to follow orders. I don't want to walk into the kitchen with an elf punishing himself and horridly hungover portraits. As I pass the sitting room on my way down, all is silent. I poke my head into the room. They're all asleep or feigning it very convincingly. Only the greyhounds look awake. What time is it? I check my watch. What in the name of Salazar Slytherin am I doing awake at five-thirty in the morning? Kreacher will likely make me toast. I feel fouler than ever. I'm in plain black robes again, cheap ones. They feel better, looser around the collar, and I don't prefer Muggle attire._

 

_Regulus is probably asleep. I walk briskly to the kitchen and pull open the heavy wooden door._

 

 __  
Sirius is there, feet on the scrubbed surface of the table, reading a sheaf of parchment  
  
_. Sirius? Up at five-thirty? I notice the polished brass pots again. Kreacher isn't here, but if he knew we were awake he would be on hand._

 

“Mooorning.” _Sirius says the word with a yawn in his voice._ “Woke up at five. Do you have caffeine in that stuff? It works but its side effect is...”

  
“Wakefulness? Shame it doesn't contain gratefulness. There was no caffeine in the Sobering Solution” _I give Sirius a crooked smile. My eyes must be smoking because Sirius says_ , “Turn off the headlights! The glare! I'm reading, hopefully in peace. How can I sleep when there's such good reading material? _”_

 

I notice a tube, and that the pages of his document are curved slightly. “I'll leave a certain amount to your discretion, _” I say as if I knew all along what he was reading, “_ as Regulus says you have such a natural affinity for the Dark Arts.” _Is he reading the timeline or the basic curricula?_ “I do want a professor with knowledge of the Dark Arts from both ends of the spectrum.”

 

“Looks like you're getting it. Look, I'm not teaching Unforgivable Curses, and no more than an overview of defence against curses, hexes and jinxes that are unfriendly.”

 

“Because curses, hexes and jinxes are generally friendly...” _I say sardonically._ “Maybe the mutt needs a chew toy. Something better to spit out than my words.”

 

“I'll teach my way or not at all. I notice Voldemort's jinx has lifted with his death. Are you sure you want me around spitting out your words year after year? I'm on as full-time tenured staff. Or not at all,” _Sirius says._

 

 _I survey his stubborn face and my irritability sharpens_. “Spitting tacks may be your tenured position but that means full-time in **my** domain. Teach what course material will see them through their exams and into practical defence required in wizarding life. And then some. You may notice that the course name is indeed Defence Against The Dark Arts? And that the textbook isn't by Vindictus Viridian?”

 

_Really the whole situation, two men arguing with their stomach growling and too little sleep, is humorous. I start to laugh. That nasty laugh turns from baritone to tenor. I feel exposed by the light laugh and change it quickly back to my normal, unusual laugh._

 

_Sirius probably noticed._

 

 __  
Regulus would say I'm afraid of showing my better nature. Maybe he's right. That thought brings out the low sneer of a laugh again, fully meant. Why should anyone, portrait and dead or otherwise, tell me what to think of myself? I turn away from Sirius. His laugh was like waterfalls. Powerful, cascading, a hint of gentleness.  


 

_I loathe feeling vulnerable._

 

“Well, mutt, do you accept my terms and yours as a contract? _” I spit. Sirius' face breaks into a wide smile with a hint of wickedness._ “Then we'll shake on it. Shake a paw.” _Irony, and he knows it. He makes his hand paw-like and I shake it. We're both on the edge of laughing but it's too serious for that. I have a teacher, and on my terms, if with a wrench or two thrown in. Looks like there's no one harder to get rid of than Sirius Black._

 

_~Sirius~_

_That's settled. I think we will be getting along pretty fine; Severus' syllabus is less dark than I expected and he wants it to look like. He looks tired. After what the kids told me, I'm surprised. Their tales made it look like he's prowling the castle every night and doesn't need any sleep at all._

 

“Breakfast? I'm afraid we have to serve ourselves. Kreacher spent the night in the study. He popped up, when he heard me rise, but I sent him to sleep. I put the kettle and pan on. Can you get whatever we need from the pantry?”

 

“I'm fine with a slice of toast.” _,Severus grunts, but he opens the pantry door._

 

“Trust my vast experience with the morning after. We need a good breakfast.”

 

_I mean to hear some muttering about indecent cheerfulness at this time of the morning which makes me even more cheerful. I hardly remember being caught reading at unusual hours and no one making a fuzz about it. I acquired the habit of reading before dawn at Hogwarts. It was the only time studying was possible without James teasing me. He never saw a point in doing more than the bare necessity unless it was about our projects like becoming Animagi or creating the Map. I admit we didn't need to revise to pass the class work, but some subjects were just interesting. 'Caught a bug from Snivellus' was his usual diagnosis, when he saw me study. Last summer they were worried about me having nightmares or insomnia. Even Hermione needed some time to understand that she's not the only Gryffindor who can and does read._

_I'll never forget her face when she found me discussing fantastic beasts with young Miss Lovegood under one of Arthur's apple trees. It's a pity that Luna couldn't come to the Christmas party because she is on an expedition to find a Sasquatch with her fiancée Rolf Scamander. She is a clever girl and her ideas about Padfoots were inspiring._

 

_Severus puts some bacon, eggs and mushroom on the worktop beside the stove. He understood what I meant with 'good' breakfast. I summon some orange juice from the icebox and pass him a glass._

 

“Icebox? I'd expected Mrs Weasley to have electricity installed and a brand new fridge.”

 

“She did, but the icebox works as fine and the fridge made horrible noises. I got rid of it, because it kept me awake half the night. The curse of dogs' hearing. Molly hated it, too, because Arthur once locked himself in to find out, if the light goes out when you close the door. He had a bad cold afterwards.”

 

_Severus laughs so hard that he nearly chokes on his juice._

_We enjoy our breakfast in peace, until we hear shouts from the drawing room._

 

“Stockings are filled! Come and get your presents!”

 

_Severus only follows reluctantly. He doesn't expect any presents. But of course, there are two stockings and both decently filled. Arthur has sent bottles of his cider for each of us, Andy gift vouchers for Flourish &Blotts, also for both of us. Molly sent a role of parchment with a horribly complicated spell. I know what it does and am very grateful. It's her own invention to detect and disable Weasley products. For Severus, she added a box of fruitcake. He obviously won her motherly heart with his help in the recovery of Regulus' body. I almost pity Harry and Ron, because I expect she gave them a hard time about their behaviour in that matter. From Harry, it's an army knife, similar to my old one he broke at the Ministry and – Merlin, no - a self-stirring cauldron for Severus. It's the good intention that counts, isn't it?_

 

~Severus~

 

 _If I could throttle Harry Potter for his supposed kindness, I might, but I'm too busy suppressing snorts of disgust and amusement. He really could not have picked an item that says more clearly, I am a mundane, mediocre dunderhead. “_ What a thoughtful gift. A true treasure. Potter's,” _I say unnecessarily._

 

_I do enjoy the magic of how he got it into the stocking, Sounds like something Hermione Weasley could manage, not Potter. I'd ask her but I'd be held back by principles. We are not really on speaking terms except to taunt her about her little Ministry sideshow._

 

_I must thank Molly, the gift and added fruitcake. For both of us, the Wizard Wheezes revealing spell. She is an accomplished witch, she has no choice if she is to be Matriarch of the Weasley clan. Arthur's cider is something I want to drink in another ten years when I've recovered fully from last night, There is no potion that truly reverses a hangover. I don't have much experience. A decent breakfast is half the battle, to trust the expert._

 

_Andy gave the only sensible gift, I think, and I hold up the gift certificate to the light, as no one had given me one before and I always wanted by choice of books like a First year who has managed to enter Honeydukes and sees what a wide selection of thoughts...er, sweets, there is._

 

“I know what to get you next year! _” The hand on my shoulder. Sirius. I was off in la-la land with the certificate. The stocking has one more thing in it. I reach in and there is a box._ “Something else, Severus? Your fan club keeps growing. If this keeps up you'll have to admit to having friends.” _He's smirking. I chuck the cauldron at him, case and all. It clangs at his feet as he leaps back._ “Maybe you'll start acting like a friend too! Kidding, Regulus knows more than I do.”

 

_I open the flat white box, and try to ignore Sirius. There's a crest on it. I've seen it at Spinner's End. There's a note attached in a scroll. I open it and smooth it, brow furrowed, reading._

 

For Master Snape,

Kreacher.

 

 __  
I remember Ginny mentioning once that Kreacher gave Harry maggots. The box isn't full of maggots but rather a small watch, which could be either gender's. It would be smallish on a man but large on a woman. Small wrist like mine? A decent fit. I produce my wand and mutter the basic counter-curses, anti-jinxes and anti-hexes. It appears harmless. Sirius is laughing at me, speaking to a watch in fluent anti-dark-arts-ese. Why? Another, smaller note had fluttered to the floor. Sirius hands it over, saying “  
  
  
Aww  
  
__  
,” under his breath.  


 

Master Snape

This belonged to Sayla Flint. Kreacher saves and salvages.

It is yours. Family.

Kreacher

 

 __  
Why does the elf keep doing this? He's the most thoughtful of the Blacks. I glare at Sirius and he stoops making noises appropriate to a small child chuckling. Kreacher gave up a Black family heirloom? I 'll speak aloud my frustration.“  
  
  
Again? Something strange with that elf. But it's Sayla's. He counts her related, as he says, It is yours. Family. Confounded elf, I don't want to owe anyone anything. That took up most of my life and look what it got me: a self-stirring cauldron.”  


 

~Sirius~

“You'd better keep the watch and be quiet. Elves are easily insulted. Rest assured it's not a Black family heirloom when Kreacher feels entitled to give it away without asking me. By the way, self-stirring cauldrons are good for whipping cream. Regulus favourite dessert, strawberries with loads of cream.”

 

_I feel a bit reluctant to open the small box which looks very much like the one Severus holds. Did we manage to throw away anything in all those cleaning attempts? I lift the the top. No, we didn't! Two toy figures made of tin, colours faded. I haven't seen them since I was eight or something and felt too old to play with them. There were dozens of those tin wizards, but those two were our favourites. Regulus and I had them go on quests to explore father's study. The could raise their wand arms to duel, but they never duelled each other. Mad Elf!_

_I have been thinking about what to give Kreacher for some time._

 

“Reggie, can I have a word in private? Severus, if you excuse us.”

 

_Walking up to the portrait I start to whisper with my brother. He nods and as I have hoped for knows where to look for the special item._

 

“Thanks Reggie.” _I leave the drawing room and run up the stairs. On the third floor right at the end of the corridor, there's the oak chest which contains mother's dowry. I carefully put aside her wedding dress, protected by wrapping tissue and spells. There it is the Irish linen which was used for the old cradle, still brilliantly green from all the in-woven protections the large pillow case which served as a cover fine lace at the edges and the Black crest stitched on in the centre. It survived countless generations of unruly brats and won't fail the elf even at work. I conjure a wrapping and return to the drawing room._

 

“Kreacher, Master Regulus wants you to wear this from now on. You've got to change it to stick your head through and fix ribbons to tie it around your waist. I couldn't do it, because with such changes it might look like clothes and I don't want to lose you.”

 

 

_The bloody elf starts sobbing and muttering again. Severus rolls his eyes and Regulus puts an end to it._

“Shut up Kreacher! Go and do as you're told!”

 

_Kreacher obeys immediately. Regulus laughs._

“Has it become a tradition under the new rule that everyone starts sobbing at presents? Stop grinning, Sirius. You looked like overflowing, too, when you opened Kreacher's present.”

 

_I show him the figures._

_._

“Folks get sentimental with old age, don't they? Anyway, you got your presents and I want to go back to sleep. Don't you have anything to do?”

 

“We have indeed. Severus, are you coming? I may need your help.”

 

 _We return to kitchen while Regulus makes a show of curling in his painting to sleep again. We do have indeed a few things to do._  
  
_I summon note paper._

 

“I thought it a bit inappropriate to write the invitations to the funeral in front of Regulus. Can you enquire about the people Reggie wanted to be there? It's still a holiday, so I can hardly owl the Goblins today. I hope they can arrange everything at short notice.”

 

“You can owl them right away. Goblins don't do Christmas. I will write to the Notts and the Flints and Slughorn. We'll see how they react.”

 

“You're sure about the Goblins? I should think so. All right I write to them and if they are at the office I'm sure they will reply soon. We should enquire about the legal issues with a couple of pardoned Death Eaters to gather in public. Us two and Andromeda are fully cleared, but Lucius is still under probation. I don't know about Nott and Flint. The last thing I want to happen is an article in the Prophet. Harry and Hermione would be very annoyed. “

 

“Regulus' friends were Death Eaters. There's not much you can do about it, unless you want to make it a propaganda show about the Slytherin boy who turned against the Dark Lord.” _Severus replies sharply._

 

“I don't! It's just that there are things which need to be done and there is pointless provocation I wish to avoid..... Can you make it clear to them that I don't want politics discussed at the funeral?”

 

“That's something I do agree with.”

 

_We settle at the large table and start writing our awkward letters, Severus' probably worse than mine._

_The letter to the family lawyers is easy and I send it immediately. The one to the Malfoys is a bit more tricky, but I've warned them to expect to hear from me soon. There's one more, to the Daily Prophet, a simple announcement. No time, no place, I don't want to advertise it, but I refuse to keep it secret. There's no reason to feel ashamed._

 

“Is it all right for you to sign the announcement in the Prophet with Andromeda and me?”

 

“May I read what you want me to sign?”

 

_I shove the text I've already written over the table._

 

**Regulus Arcturus Black**

**28.8.1961-12.7.1979**

 

 **Theirs not to make reply,**  
Theirs not to reason why,  
Theirs but to do and die

 

**Remembered in brotherly love and friendship**

**Sirius Black**

**Andromeda Black-Tonks**

__  
**Severus Snape**  


 

“Am I supposed to get used to Gryffindor cynicism now? 'The Charge of the Light Brigade', isn't it? Do you think they will get the point?”

 

“A few will, others won't. May I leave your name on it or not?”

 

“Leave it for Salazar's sake. I guess Regulus would like it.” _Once you get used to his ways he sounds not nearly as grumpy as he wants to._

 

“Do you want to add a personal note to the Malfoy letter telling Lucius that Regulus would want him to attend?”

 

_~Severus~_

 

_I can feel my brow furrowing with concentration. I become very aware that Sirius, Lucius and I have Azkaban in common. I was there for a short period. Sirius was there the longest. The claimed crime committed by each of us was Dark magic and fealty to the Dark Lord. That Sirius served there longest seems a reversal of how it should have been. Lucius is a rotten apple, but he was a mentor, a friend of sorts, from the moment I sat down at the Slytherin table and he clapped me on the back, in my first year. He left a legacy in the common room and I enjoyed teaching his son._

 

_I look for parchment and a quill. There's one on top of a .. dear me .. writing table. I snatch up the quill and smooth the parchment,_

 

Lucius, old friend.

 

You'd be very welcome at Regulus' funeral, and I will be pleased to see you. But please, no political nonsense about true blood and true magic and true ideals, which I won't argue are or are not true. I wish you to know you may see former friends, and I suggest you skip the chit-chat about the nobility inherent in the Dark Arts. The younger Nott, Theodore, Richard Flint, and Horace Slughorn will be there but we are there to celebrate Regulus' life and mourn his death. It's not a cosy gathering of .. you get my point. You don't deserve to be sent back to Azkaban. Behave!

 

Yours,

Severus.

 

 _I shove the letter across to Sirius and he snorts reading it. “_  
Ours is no to lecture why...”   
_he apes his own use of the Charge of the Light Brigade. I snicker._

 

“Are you sure you want him to come? But Reggie does, that is what matters,” _Sirius says._

 

_I smirk. I know. But_

 

“Lucius needs warning, but he is very good at presentation... “ _I let my snark be heard in tone of voice._ “ I have wanted to see Lucius for years. It's never been ... prudent. I'm sure he feels the same way even if he does call me “half impure traitor” with that affectionate sneer. I'll write the others notes more to the point, much more invitation than rant.”

 

_I walk out, knowing I seemed a little odd there. But it doesn't matter. Regulus matters, in portrait or memory and most certainly in body. I stump up to Regulus' room. He has a writing table of course._

 

_I scrawl identical notes for Theo, Richard and Horace. Unlikely or at least curious housemates. Lucius, the privileged snoot of the Dark Lord, Theo the Charms geek cum Death Eater, Richard the “social conscience” repentant type, and a Potioneer cum social climber. Horace will agree to no politics. Will the others? There are two owls here, mine, Sirius' owl is gone and the family owl is ancient. I wish someone would investigate making letters travel by Floo powder._

 

_I let my owl Zara out into the wind, every letter bound to his leg, feeling this can't come too fast and also can't be over with too quickly. I still have the trace of a hangover. Perhaps that can be an excuse for talk of affectionate sneering._

 

_~Sirius~_

_Severus has left the kitchen to write his letters in a more fitting surrounding. I don't mind the kitchen table. Kreacher has returned in his new dress and removes the mess we left after breakfast. I call for Andromeda in the fire. She is already awake. Teddy keeps her busy. I don't need to explain to her that there will be Death Eaters at the funeral. She knows, but she urges me to make sure that there won't be legal problems. I promise to talk to the lawyers. Legal concerns about a family funeral...._

_My owl picks at the window with the reply from Boruk, Boruk & Laddkill. The second Boruk, son or nephew of the first announces his visit for this afternoon._

 

“…. delighted to be of service to the Black family”

 

_I look at the ring on my hand and feel odd._


	64. Sirius/Severus: Wary Visitors

_~Sirius~_

_After the owls are sent, we can only wait for the replies. I'm pretty confident that Slughorn and the Malfoys will agree to attend. Lucius will be suspicious, but also curious to find out what I'm truly up to. I imagine that they keep their owls busy to discuss the strange invitation from the blood traitor among each other. Regulus wants Malfoy, Nott and Flint to be at his funeral. That's all that counts to me._

_Sometime after lunch the fire announces the arrival of Boruk. We've met before when I made my will and again when the legacy was returned to me by Harry. The younger Boruk isn't really young. He looks older than Kreacher. He probably is older than the elf. Goblins don't give a damn about wizard laws and they don't talk to the Ministry about their clients. Severus eyes him suspiciously, a reasonable reaction. One can trust a Goblin to act like a Goblin and they trust a Black to act like a pureblood wizard. That has been a working business arrangement for centuries._

_It's a question of manners not to use a wand in their presence unless it can't be avoided. They are still touchy about wands. It's a bit absurd because they don't really need them. Boruk smirks at the sight of the signet ring. I return the smirk. They charge a handsome fee each time it is passed from one owner to the other, but I know they already deducted it in advance several years ago._

“ _The ring passed to you, Mr Black, whether you have it at your disposal or not.” No use to argue with a Goblin in such matters._

_The mere formalities are quickly done with. The guest list is a bit tricky. There seems to be a Ministry decree that for a gathering of more than three former Death Eaters in public which do not live in the same household – how thoughtful of them to take families into consideration – we need to obtain an official authorisation. We can't get one today and tomorrow is a bit late. Our list contains four marked Death Eaters. Severus snorts as Boruk explains he doesn't count because he has been a Member of the Order of the Phoenix and a war hero. Leaves us with the legal three, young Theodore Nott managed to avoid taking the Mark before he finished Hogwarts. I wish Regulus had done the same. Boruk suggests that I contact the Head of the Auror Office and the Minister in private because we are on friendly terms._

“Is it legal to have three former Death Eaters in one place or not?” _I bark. I don't feel like begging with Harry and Kingsley to be allowed to bury my brother the way he wants it. Legilimency is not needed to read Severus' face. He's thinking 'stubborn Gryffindor' or 'arrogant pureblood'._

“Well, yes Mr Black. It is legal and with three Order members to be responsible for the meeting the Ministry shouldn't interfere, but using your connections won't do any harm. The Ministry is still nervous. There were rumours of an investigation of Dark activities yesterday.” 

_Rumours? I'm sure Boruk knows which house they searched. Severus inspects a spot on the ceiling with utmost interest._

_~Severus~_

“So I am discounted as a Death Eater. How quaint. All that trouble for nothing,” _I can't keep silent on this one._ “On my left arm is the mark of perfection, a sure sign of a war hero,” _I sneer._

“You should know,” _Boruk says nastily._

“Hermione Weasley should know, took her long enough to obliterate the past.” _I sneer some more._

“If we could keep it to Mr Black, I am here to see him only. Other wand-carriers are beneath my notice,” _he says harshly._ “The time of the funeral?”

“Two in the afternoon. That's tradition.” _They are back at it. I examine the ceiling again, listening to Sirius' stubborn, spoiled voice, the one he always used around James Potter. Pureblood Gryffindor. And I like him?_

_Click. An idea falls into place. Sirius is treating me just as he used to treat James. Blind loyalty, he'd do anything for me, it's his honour. Same with Regulus and Andromeda. Everyone else can go to hell, or be so secondary they don't matter to him. Maybe he still cares for Harry... but there's an estrangement. Great Salazar, I thought I was socially backwards. He takes the cake._

_I wait for Sirius to be finished, observing only. Not that Boruk won – I couldn't be bothered when it comes to goblins. I have my train of thought derailed by the return of Zara, my faithful owl. He is tapping on the window, bearing three letters. Every answer. I take the owl out and over to a large ornate cage. He nearly inhales the water in his eagerness for a drink. He made it in good time. I would stroke him but Sirius and Boruk are still here, just parting._

“Let's not count our Death Eaters before they're hatched, shall we? The answers. Malfoy, Nott and Flint.” _I riffle through the envelopes and open Flint's first._ “Richard is coming, and let's see...” _I flick open another envelope and whisk it through the air, and scan it,_ “Theo is indeed coming. And for the ace card- Lucius indicates he will come under the condition of talking to the blood traitor that's hosting this happy event.” _I stare at the paper._ “He will be in touch just after two pm today.” _I hold the parchment in one hand._ “Exceptions for families are included even here? The family added would make more than three offenders.” _I am thinking of Draco. Narcissa never took the mark, as far as I know._

 _Boruk looks coldly and I watch him carefully. If there's anyone who draws a calculated look from a wand-carrier it's a goblin. I can see his gigantic wheels turning._ “That will be acceptable, as Nott never took the Dark Mark in the first place. Three is three. It has been thought through. The Ministry will be informed.” _At last he seems to be departing._

 _I look at Sayla Flint's watch on my wrist._ “Two-fifteen. Lucius should be here any minute. He is going to take a piece out of Richard if we're not careful. Unrepentant meets repentant. Richard says he will avoid politics.”

_Boruk's expression is unfathomable. Black eyes and in a domed head, elongated fingers, feet in long thin black over-shined shoes. He turns to exit via Floo powder, and he is getting ready to leave when emerald sparks sail into the air and roaring green flames expel Lucius Malfoy into the room._

_We're all taken aback by Lucius' arrival. He looks at me with grey disdainful eyes, then at Boruk, then at Sirius_. “Boruk,” _Lucius says smoothly and his glib ambiguity just oozes out of him. He always could make an entrance._

“Severus, you haven't changed. Slip of a man, and slippery as an eel. Keeping out of trouble? Judging by your present company, I rather think not.”

~Sirius~

_Boruk has obviously decided to leave us to deal with our differences. It's better not to have knowledge of certain things._

“We'll collect the body in the morning. Everything will be arranged to your wishes, Mr Black.”

“Thank you, Boruk. Good day to you.”

_The goblin steps into the fire and is gone. I turn my attention to Lucius. The rumours have not exaggerated. He's only the shadow of the young man I once knew who believed the world belonged to him. Do I feel pity for a Death Eater? Maybe I just know how it feels when the cause you dedicated your life to came to nothing._

“Nice to meet you, Lucius,” _It's only slightly meant as a mockery. I spoke the truth when I said to Draco Lucius wasn't the worst of the lot._ “And a belated 'Merry Christmas'. 

“Black, what are you up to? First, you try to corrupt my wife and son with expensive presents and now you're trying to lure us to an illegal gathering. I'm not that stupid!”

“We've just discussed the legal concerns with Boruk. Three pardoned Death Eaters are balanced out by three Order members. Strictly spoken it is a family event the Ministry shouldn't interfere with. Regulus wants you and your friends to attend. I'm willing to do him the favour. There aren't many left he called friends or family.”

“Family and friends? Narcissa mentioned that you remembered the importance of family lately. Who would have thought? What category do you count Severus in? You weren't the best of friends in the past.”

_Severus calmly takes the jibe at his blood status. I want to slap Lucius, but I notice the flicker in his eyes. The man is scared. He cannot afford to make us his enemies, but he doesn't trust us._

“Severus fits both as you very well know, much more closely related to the Blacks than you are, Malfoy. Yes, I remember the importance of family. Isn't it strange what war does to men? Some remember what really counts and others forget everything, even their manners.”

“Sirius, I don't need a watchdog to defend me. Put your mutual dislike aside, both of you. This is about Regulus, not your pride.” _Severus growls impatiently._

_I back down smiling. I know he's right with both. He doesn't need me to watch his back and this is about Regulus._

“Maybe your old friend could do with a dose of your home-brew to help him think. 

_-Severus-_

_I see Lucius look at me sharply._ “I am taking no drink from a potioneer who lives two or three lives at once. Once a Death Eater, though, always a Death Eater.” _He stares insolently at my left arm, where the brand still exists. I had hoped it would fade completely, and he knows it hasn't. I hate him at the moment. But this man was the one who first greeted me when I was a greenhorn at the Slytherin table, fresh from the Sorting, with his prefect's badge and shoulder length whitish hair._

 _I find Draco easier to deal with, fine have it your way, Malfoy. I nod to Sirius, who looks bemused. Maybe even amused. “_ Sirius, if you could? I know you offered my poison, perhaps Lucius wishes another death by another brand.” _I lay delicate stress on the last word. His eyes are still on my left arm, but they flicker over to Sirius._

“How about Severus brings the drink and we all have some? We can all expire together,” _Sirius jokes most earnestly, shaking his shaggy head at our foolishness._

“Fine,” _I say, muttering_ “More paranoid than Alastor Moody,” _under my breath, carefully enunciated so as to carry to the other two. “_ Be warned, Lucius, this hound isn't always that tame,” _I add more loudly._

_I don't look at Sirius but try to assess Lucius, take in the image of him. He is thinner than I am and his hair is straggly, longer even than usual. He looks all angles. His cheeks are hollowed, and a tic goes in his right cheek. Gaunt is the right word, and his pale eyes have lost their dominance, no matter how good an entrance he made. I raise my wand, and give it an irritable jerk, silently summoning the best of the Firewhiskey...which is my only Firewhiskey. I'll avoid drinking any. It's not good to let down any defences, not now._

_The bottle soars to me and I grasp it firmly and unstopper it. Sirius conjures fine crystal glasses, and I pour three separate shots into three separate glasses. We all take one. I use a non-verbal Evanesco to clear the glass the moment it reaches my lips. Sirius barely touched his, puts it on the table next to him. We all sit at long last._

_Lucius turns the glass in his hands watching the amber liquid glitter through the cut crystal._

“I see you are started to value your heritage again, though you still receive guests in the kitchen.”

 _There's a dangerous gleam in Sirius' eyes, but his words are merely amused._ >

“I do indeed. That my blood is not a recommendation nowadays doesn't mean I can't enjoy the few comforts it offers. I'm sorry that you don't like the kitchen. The drawing room is not fit for guests. We had a little party last night, close friends only.” _Sirius jerks his head in way that leaves no doubt who he refers to._

_It still confuses me, when Sirius calls me a close friend. Lucius is even more confused._

“Relax, sit back, and tell us what you've come to say,” _Sirius plays the expansive host easily, he is an excellent actor sometimes._

“I want to know about Regulus wanting me there. I want to know what happened to Severus, that he's befriended a blood traitor extraordinaire. I want to know what this gathering means, and I refuse to be around Flint. He's the Repentant Slytherin capitalised, and I can't withstand his presence. There's one thing denying who you are. It's worse that he attempts to shove it on the rest of us.” _Lucius is looking at me, transparent eyebrows raised._

“Regulus portrait decided who should attend. He wishes for you, Narcissa and Draco to come, among others, Nott and yes Flint. And we're not changing Regulus' wishes to suit you.” _I snarl the last three words._

“Ah, yes. Portraits are tricky. Why Regulus should choose me... we were alike in pure blood and cunning intentions, but he was ever the idealist, I was more practical... more willing to make hard decisions...” _Lucius sounds didactic, This is very vexing._

“Were you? You don't look I'll like a man who can cope with the consequences of his decisions.” Sirius mutters under his breath. I glare at him to shut up. He smirks. Lucius hasn't heard his remark.

“You're not here to give lectures. I'm answering no questions on my recent behaviour. This is about Regulus. You made an impression on him. He looked up to you, remembers you well. He met Draco at the Christmas party and young Mister Malfoy made a good impression too. He likes Narcissa. The group is balanced by two opposing parties coming for Regulus. It's legal. If you wish to attend, let us know now.” _I sound irritated._

_I stand and pour him another shot, one for myself and leave the bottle beside Sirius again. He doesn't drink. Lucius' eyes follow my drink as again I have it evaporate as it touches my lips, and he drinks. I want him to either whine petulantly for acceptance or have his old disdain and sense of personal control. He seems almost himself as he clicks his fingers for another drink. I get neither response. I refuse to fill a glass at such a vulgar prompt. I stare at Lucius and knit my brow,_

“The family – the immediate family will attend. This is Regulus, with his ideals of the young, and the pure. Fine, we accept.” _Belch. I suppress a snort of disgust and disbelief. A Malfoy belched in public. The world will end._

_He tries to make an exit as grand as his arrival but fudges it by stumbling on the corner of his robes. A pathetic Lucius is a horrible thing to witness. If I were the type to have pity on anyone, one of my first choices would be Lucius Malfoy._

_No strut, just a disappearance amid green flames and emerald sparks._

_~Sirius~_

_I shove the bottle away and watch the green flames disappear._

“Let's hope that his own pride stops him from being like this tomorrow. There won't be a reception after the funeral. I don't think Reggie's portrait is up to face this. He admired him since he was a boy. Given that the only alternatives were Bella and her gargoyles, it's not completely unreasonable.” 

_Severus looks at me thoughtfully._ “He's ....”

“No need to tell me. I know I was as bad four years ago. Believe it or not, I'd invited him without Reggie saying so. He is family.”

 _Severus snorts._ “A family to be proud of.”

“Just family. Can you tell me a bit about Richard Flint and Theodore Nott? I've met Flint as a boy. He was a friend of my father and my uncle Alphard which actually makes it hard to imagine what kind of ex-Death Eater I've got to expect. Harry and Ron mentioned his son, but more in connection with Quidditch than politics. I don't know young Nott. His father was close to Bella's gargoyles,” _I can't suppress a grin._ “the Lestranges, but the son obviously managed to keep his distance from Draco and his cronies. Harry doesn't seem to remember much of the boy.”

_-Severus-_

_I consider my answer for a minute. “_ Theodore Nott is a paradox. He studies the Dark Arts but is as nervous about it as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs. He always fell into high average in Potions classes, no true distinction. He's high-strung and yappy like one of those nervous small dogs. And when he wants, he can snap at your ankle with flair. He doesn't only do that when provoked. A shrinking violet with Venomous Tentacula creepers. He was the “Charms geek” at Hogwarts. It should be very hard to predict him, but from what I know of him, he'll be silent but cast a nervous hex on those nearest him, passive-aggressive. Always more than what he seems.”  _ I stare at the wall while I think, and try to put weighed words to my thoughts. _

“He didn't get involved with Draco and friends out of fear of committal. A wise boy out of self-interest, in short.” _I finish._

“He sounds quite the Slytherin,” _Sirius gives me a small dry wink. I ignore him. Trying to sum up these people in few words would be easy, but I know he wants detail. Something to sink your teeth into. Analysis. Sizing things up. I know more than a little about these things. And he knows it. He's not too lazy to find out, he's just making good use of resources. Or – asking a friend for information? That would be it … along with my shame at not realising the simple truths in front of my face. I decide not to ignore Sirius._

“Yes, quite. Just as Pettigrew was a Gryffindor. Nott's far more decent by any comparison.” _I can't keep a hate-twisted smirk from my face, and it must be terrible because Sirius looks away._

 

“Don't remind me.” _Sirius looks ill._

“I wouldn't dream of bringing it up. Theo Nott is coming to stand in for his father, Edwin. Edwin has a wasting illness of some sort, deathly ill. He's a wild card, Theo, so we'll have to see how things go and hope he doesn't go off biting ankles. Odds are good he'll be quiet but we must watch.”

“So tell me how lovely our next decent snake is.” _He's recovered a little from the mention of Pettigrew. If he feels bad about that, how does he think I felt when Dumbledore said_ “Perhaps we sort too soon”? Wretched man, manipulator. _Sirius and I agree there, indeed we agree on a lot for former enemies par excellence. I think now of Richard Flint._

“Richard calls himself a repentant Death Eater but really he's an unrepentant racist of the worst sort- the humorous, pleasant, joking, belittling sort. The one no one takes seriously but everyone remembers what he said because he's _(I sneer strongly here)_ 'a nice guy'. 

Like Arthur around Muggles only in Richard's case it's more than amusement at how clever these little Muggles are, he sends the message that Muggles are great for hex practice or joke about seeing if they're immune to magic by casting Unforgivables. He thinks Muggle-borns should be tagged in the ear .. what was his term … “like common faggots.” He's vile.

I don't know how Orion and Alphard had anything to do with him. But he was more decent at one point and that was the point when Regulus knew him. He was very gifted with the glib tongue. I blame him for being half the reason Regulus was drawn to the Dark Lord's ideology.

People like to feel in on secret knowledge and have secret power. At least those I know and have met. For you, it was the Order. For Richard... for Regulus... for me, at first... it was the Death Eaters.”

 _I get back to the point. “_ Lucius will probably be less of a problem than non-Death Eater Theo. We should try to keep them separated. Better to stick Lucius in some prestigious seat, because Theo will respect that, and keep his distance. Those two together are quite a handful. But as you say, there will be no reception. By the time it's over I don't doubt the Ministry will be there for what Hermione would call damage control. Let's hope to avoid it.

Where do we stick Lucius? Top of a pecking order with the most decrepit Death Eater at the top and Richard at the bottom. That's how I see it. Draco can keep an eye on his father, and Narcissa can watch them both. Draco can sit next to her, and Theo. Theo will be excited to see Draco again, even if they were in different crowds. Same house, same year, somewhat the same nonsense. Theo will sit next to me or I'll have his wand. You in front, I suppose? I'd rather sit with you. The whole aspect of a social gathering has me grinding my teeth to so many very small millstones. This won't be easy. Richard can't be allowed to sound off at Reg's funeral even in his genial way. Perhaps if we ask Horace to watch him, if Horace wouldn't be too put out at not making the funeral's shelf.” _I smirk._ “Any suggestions?”

_~Sirius~_

_I consider his words carefully. Flint fits my father and Uncle Alphard perfectly except that they thought themselves so high above the common folk that they wouldn't even have thought of dirtying their hands with active Muggle-baiting. Nott reminds me a bit of Severus, but of course, I wouldn't tell him._

“Narcissa will certainly take care of Lucius. She's always been capable of controlling him and make him do her bidding. I'm sure she won't let him endanger Draco's future any more than he already has. Draco himself... you know how much the boy looks up to you? With him and the other two, I rely on the proverbial Slytherin sense of self-preservation. They certainly don't trust me and they are not the only ones. We'll be watched, but they should be aware of that. 

Let's trust the power of your intimidating glare to keep our guests under control.” _I add laughing._ ”Yeah, that's perfect......”


	65. Severus/Sirius: Night Watch

 

_~Severus~_

_It's been quite a long day, what with Lucius looking like something the cat dragged in. Remember the talk of power? True magic? Welcome to what became of your ideal world, old friend._

_Seeing him gaunt and sallow reminds me of a broken toy soldier. Well, reap what you sow, and allow me to sneer in Lucius' general direction. The same face I give Potter's self-stirring cauldron. There were good things about today? How do I loathe thee, let me count the ways..._

_I'm preparing for the worst and expecting even worse. The funeral will be darker than retrieving Reg's body from the underground lake. Worst case scenarios rush through my tired brain. The unpredictable Theo Nott is a problem; should he act up, others will take advantage of it._

_Sanity in the form of Andromeda and Narcissa and I believe Draco and Horace should help. I'll pull Draco aside and give him a task. He likes tasks. My fingers clench into fists and back again several times._

_Sirius what the hell do you think, that I want to police the shabby gathering, that I should somehow know how to deal with Death Eaters former or half-present? Great Salazar, I do not want to be babysitter to a load of adults, politically correct or the opposite. Why is there rarely middle ground? The nature of the ideology? I think for a bit._

_I think through a shower and lie wet and still once more on Reg's bed, covered in his cloak once more. I'm going to take this cloak if Sirius agrees. I'm going to use it or keep it in my closet. Sentiment. Sappiness. Potions masters and Headmasters can have it too._

_I sit bolt upright. Noise at the door. It's just the cat Alexi scratching at the door to come in. I let her in and she hides under the bed. I growl and throw the pillow hard across the room, and though light it knocks over Regulus' aspidistra and the pot loses half its soil. How lovely. I restore it with a sharp jab of my wand._

_What I am, what I know, never shines though in what I show. Except for irritable sarcasm. I could change but why in Merlin's name should I or would I want to?_

_Sirius is an arrogant pureblood, and such a battle-scarred Order lackey, Gryffindor. Yet I am closer to him now than I have been to anyone save my mother. Like having a brother. A real one, one you can fight with but you're still family._

_I think darkly of this. How much more exposure to Sirius and in front of Sirius can I take? He has shown me trust in several ways but try as I might I cannot trust ... anyone. If I did, he'd be first choice._

_I get out of bed and pace in furious circles. Why should I spy on old friends, control them?_

_Because I was a damn fool ever to sketch Regulus. And now making him speak aloud. I am a glutton for punishment, or just don't think through all the implications._

_One is as bad as the other. I stand stock still, and let my own fire scorch me. I will do it for my memory of Regulus far more than for a body or a sketch. I stretch on the bed, then curl under the cloak again. His prefect badge digs into my side-- is nothing ever right?_

_It seems it takes me two hours to fall asleep. I imagine Richard and want to offer him the nearest poison with an unknown anti-venom. The rest of those attending... they're sooo much better. The only one I wouldn't hex if I could get away with it is Andromeda. And she was the opposite of her sister Bellatrix. Do I hate my own house, my own former decisions? I curl more tightly under the cloak._ “I hate all of you!” _I snarl aloud. Luckily there is no answer from the service lift._

 _Exhausted and burning with anger, I attempt to rid myself of all emotion. I drift...and sleep engulfs me a last._  

_~Sirius~_

_We have retreated to bed early. We're both getting nervous about tomorrow. I know I'm acting stubborn, listening to the wishes of a portrait. Sirius Black arranging a meeting of Death Eater vets, unheard of folly._

_I feel confident that I – that we – can handle the situation, but do I really want to? How many times have I sneered at the fact that the name of Black graced with a handful of galleons could make people do whatever we want them to do? Now I'm taking advantage of it._

_I can hear Severus pacing next door. He must feel cornered, used. If only I could get it through to everyone that I am responsible for the mess I got us in. I don't want anyone else to be in trouble because of me._

_The pacing has stopped. Has he gone to sleep? Can I risk to do what I've been waiting for? I should._

_Sneaking out of the bedroom at night is a skill one never loses. Avoid the creaking floorboards. I've known them by heart for years. The door of Father's study opens without a sound. Kreacher is there again standing guard over his master's body. He looks at me with affection. It hurts to understand that he loves me, probably has loved me all those years. Maybe we need to love to hate so much._

_The elf's magic has preserved the roses around the body, but I vanish them anyway and replace them with fresh ones. Too many roses around the slender body of a young man who almost looks like a boy. He was even younger than Harry is now. Children given the tasks of men and then blamed for failing to make the right choices. I feel a pang of guilt at the thought that things were easier if there was only the heap of bones I had expected to find in the cave. Regulus looks like he's only sleeping. Untouched, calm, peaceful...........unreal._

_I gesture Kreacher to leave. It's my turn to hold the vigil tonight._

_He hesitates to obey. For a moment I think that he doesn't trust me with his beloved master, but then as he grabs my hand with both of his I understand that he is worried about me. I try to tell him that I'll be fine, no need to worry. The words don't come out. I slide down to the floor and Kreacher hold me in his arms like he used to do 30 years ago. I cry into the folds of the green pillow case. No need to be strong, because Kreacher will protect me. He kept the ghoul in the toilet quiet; he knew a spell to stop the snake door handles from moving in the dim light of the street lamps and every night he checked under the bed and in the cupboard for boggarts. He's stroking my hair and softly humming an old elf song, magic without words._

_I can see the three dark scars on his left forearm. I caused them. He had cut himself with a large knife when I accidentally had locked myself up in an old oak chest in the attic for more than an hour. I think Bella had her hands in it. We'd been playing hide and seek, all of us. The boggart from my cupboard had moved into that chest after Kreacher banned it. I still get a bit nervous when locked in alone._

_Kreacher's song is not strong enough to put an adult to sleep. However, it makes me feel safe. I reach for my wand and cast a Patronus charm. The bear cub jumps around and Kreacher smiles._

“You can stay if you like. Just let me talk to him, will you?” _Kreacher retreats into a corner. I sit down in Father's chair and put my hands on Reggie's. I wonder why I don't go downstairs to talk to the portrait. It's the Regulus I knew, frozen in time shortly after I left him, but it's not real. The sketch is a magic echo of the Regulus we remember. This here on the desk is my real brother. He can't give me answers, but I want to tell him anyway._

“I don't know where to start... at the beginning perhaps. I didn't want to leave you. I really intended to write to you like I promised, but the moment the train left the station it was as if a curse was lifted. I felt free for the first time and there were the other boys, James and Remus and that little rat Peter. Normal boys, excited like me, curious, trying to hide how scared they were by acting cool. Just like me. I had never met anyone like James before. Do you remember? He was the boy who got the third racing broom. He laughed his head off when I told him how I panicked when they took it from the shop window and his father walked away with 'my broom'. I think I was almost spellbound and we talked about Quidditch and all those things. Nobody recited family trees or cared for pureblood lineage. James cared for houses and I made my choice. I wanted to be alright for James whatever it costs. I had no idea that it would cost you in the end. I took for granted that you'd follow me to Gryffindor. When you didn't I felt abandoned. James did everything to cheer me up and you turned your back whenever I tried to make you join us. I couldn't understand why you didn't like James. No wrong, I knew why you didn't like him. I just refused to accept it. I thought if you just got to know him... instead you kept to your own lot as I kept to mine. And I saw you with Severus. I thought he spent time with you to spite me or you were with him to punish me. Do you notice I call him Severus now? You were right about him; I was wrong. He really is good company, best company I had for a long time.

He's here to help me bury you. In style, just the way you'd want it. He went with me to the cave. Without him, it would have taken me months, perhaps years to find you. It was almost like being with James again... no, better because we didn't do it just for the thrill. Unfortunately, he's just doing it for you.

I'm jealous. I've always been a little bit jealous of you. You were liked by everyone for being just you. I was a disappointment. To Mother and Father which I don't really regret. To you when I left you alone for them to drag you into darkness. To James and Lily when I failed to protect them and finally to my godson. I wasn't there to be a godfather when he needed one. I tried to fulfil James' expectations, too often against my own judgement. My fault not his, not really.... I know you always thought otherwise. He didn't make me leave the family, leave you. It was my decision. I enjoyed it most of the time. I liked showing your idiot housemates, our stupid inbred cousins and I liked fighting Severus. I thought he did, too and I still think there were moments when he enjoyed it. Or maybe not, because to him it was real. To me, it was a game, a challenge. I missed the point when it went too far. All that was left was mutual hatred. The greatest disappointment is perhaps that I didn't even have the decency to stay dead. I should have ended up like a good Gryffindor war hero a smiling image in a silver frame on Harry's mantelpiece. All I am is a pain in the back. I'm really good at it!

Isn't it funny I came here to tell you the things I should have told you when you were still alive. That I miss you, that I never stopped loving you, caring for you, no matter how much I pretended to hate you. Instead, I tell you of my present troubles. It's always been like that. I was supposed to be the big brother, the strong one, but in fact, you were looking after me. I have to rely on my own judgement now. I can do it. I will remember all the things you once told me and follow your advice. I do remember them. I did listen. I've always been good at pretending not to listen, haven't I? I guess you were the only one who noticed. Will you continue to look after me? You did all those years. Have you seen my Patronus? Even Kreacher forgave me when he saw it. Severus said yours was the same. You did trust in yourself, didn't you? Confident enough to see your errors and act to make up for them. It took me 20 years to do the same. Do you think Severus can forgive me? I'm asking too much, don't I? I don't just want him to forgive. I want him as a friend as he was yours. I'm wondering did he ever tell you that I nearly killed him in 5th year? Your portrait self said you didn't know what happened. He had promised not to expose my friend Remus, but I think you had believed his words without any details and would have really hated me. How many times did he act more decently than we did? I didn't mean to kill him, but that doesn't matter. He could have died and only survived because James wanted to protect Remus... and me. Did anyone ever care about him?

You did. Now that I took the time to get to know him I do, too. You told me I would like him. We roasted Gryffindors over the drawing room fire. Yes, we did. Can you believe it? Your portrait was there and later Mother came looking for you. Mother's portrait, she died while I was in Azkaban. She believed in my innocence and tried to get me out. She was the only one and I really thought she hated me. I thought I hated her; I don't know what to think anymore. Grandfather Arcturus said I was like her, too much alike to get along. How did you and Father manage to endure our constant fights? Her portrait doesn't talk anymore. It's better that way. I fear we would be screaming at each other again. We did when I returned here the first time. She went mad when you died.”

_There are squeaky sounds of protest from the corner._

“No, Kreacher's mistress didn't go mad when Master Regulus died. She tried to find my young master and went into mourning when they told her he was dead. She was sad and lonely, but she was sane. Kreacher couldn't tell - couldn't comfort her. Forbidden! She waited for you to come and find my master. She waited for months, for years. It was the letter, the letter from the Ministry that made her ill. Her heart broke that day. My mistress went to bed and never got up again.”

_The quiet voice of the elf sends chills through my spine. No! That can't be true! I hardly dare to ask..._

“Which letter? When?” _I bite my lips not to scream, but I can't stop the tears, when the inevitable answer comes._

“Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Bartemius Crouch, heartless bastard.” _Kreacher spits out the name with a hatred only matched by my own. I bury my head on Regulus' chest and cry without restraint. I don't hear that Kreacher moves closer and flinch when I feel his warm little hands on my shoulders. He doesn't speak, just holds me as I lie there trembling, sobbing. I don't know how long. After a while, I get quieter and hear a strange noise. Somebody else is crying, too. A woman??? There aren't any portraits in the study. Phineas said so. The noise is faint as if it comes from far away, very far away. I look at the door. No, wrong direction. Not from far away, the crying is here, in this room, muffled, coming from inside the desk. I open the drawers, one after the other. The crying gets louder. In the last, there is a locket decorated with the family crest. I open it, a miniature portrait of my mother as a young woman. I remember Father saying she was a beautiful woman in her time. She looks like Bellatrix,.... like Andromeda, like me. She lifts her face and smiles at me under the tears. I smile at her._

_I show it to Kreacher. He nods._

“It belonged to Master Orion.“

_We've never been a normal family, but a crying man, an old elf, a portrait in a locket and fresh corpse which had been dead for twenty years may be the strangest family reunion this house has ever seen._

  _***_

 _I wake up from steps on the stairs, Severus on his way to the kitchen. I still hold the locket. Kreacher is still sleeping cuddled in my lap. I regret to wake him, but I can't move any other way._  

“Go down to the kitchen and make breakfast. Tell Severus I'll be there in ten minutes.”

_Kreacher hurries out._

_I say goodbye to Regulus and return to my room to take a shower and get dressed._


	66. Severus/Sirius: Waiting for.....

~Severus~

I wake up early but spend some time in my room, alone. I am not as full of dread as I was last night but I wonder at the situation Sirius has put himself – us – in. Harry Potter will have something to do with the funeral whether it's Auror business or not and I decide not to take part unless it is specifically requested of me. Potter is likely to provoke a reaction I really don't wish to witness. I muse on this as I pull off my nightshirt and get dressed until my feet are clad in boots and my pressed black cotton robes are swathing me. I may be a thin person but despite that, I can make a presence that commands respect. And I may need all of it to police this cosy little gathering, against my will or no, for Sirius' sake and respect for my memories of Regulus.  
I hear no movement from Sirius' room through the service lift. I tidy my cuff. I rarely care if I look terribly presentable but today it is essential. Formal occasions are better than plain social occasions because they have a format one can operate in. It's much easier on the nerves.  
I make my way downstairs looking carefully around for Sirius but no sign of him. Kreacher comes out of his place of vigil of Orion's study and hurries over.  
“Master Sirius will arrive soon. What would Master like for breakfast?” he asks eagerly, but I notice his eyes are bloodshot. They haven't been this bloodshot for a while. Since I first arrived. But he seems happy enough, and doesn't notice me looking at him strangely.  
“Rashers of bacon and eggs?” Kreacher prompts.  
“Black coffee, and toast. That's all I can manage.”  He peers at me and nods, blowing his nose on his new outfit. I guess old habits die hard. I feel no rancour today, but an eerie blank sadness. I suppose my normal temper will be back before long. I want to go see Regulus' body but something holds me back. It would be of no use to me or indeed anyone. But I think of what I would say as I accept the coffee from the slightly trembling elf.  
The elf will have a harder time than anyone. But he will be happy the ritual is over with, that he will have respects paid to him. My hand shake a little so I make a fist of one and grasp my coffee like a grenade with the other. Regulus Arcturus Black. A star that went supernova without anyone but an elf to tell the tale.  
I say without words, I wish I could have made an Unbreakable Vow to you as I did Draco, you were no age to die and certainly more admirable than Draco or myself. I would have paid just as high a price and perhaps have had the decency to die when I should have. I hear the clock of boot-heels and they're not my own. Sirius is approaching. He looks worn, but somehow more present than he has been over the last few days. Something about him is different. My eyes scan him for oddities and I spot at once that he is wearing black, soft robes with a chain tucked down the front. Sirius has never worn a necklace. I decide to not mention it.  
I start off the morning without pleasantries.  I can't stand not to talk business when so much is whirring through my mind. “When did you say the goblins were coming?”

~Sirius~

Severus' business-like tone startles me for a moment. Maybe it's the best way to deal with today's  proceedings. He has noticed the locket before I've managed to push it under my robes. I feel relief that he doesn't ask about last night. I don't fully understand it myself.  
Boruk hasn't given an exact time. I try to remember what it's been like in the past.  
“Goblins? It's been a while, but I don't think there will be goblins. Not more than one, the rest will be men. They're going to arrange it according to the Statute of Secrecy. They'll come for the body around ten and take it to the funeral parlour to do all the necessary preparations, I suppose. We'll be meeting them at the chapel. Andromeda will probably be here before we leave.”    
Severus is clutching his cup. Something to hold on to like the locket under my robes. Kreacher brings me toast and tea. I thank him. He seems to want to take me in his arms again but thinks the better of it in Severus' presence. Instead, he returns to the stove and starts dangling with a pan.  
“No, Kreacher. Toast is all I need this morning. Have you eaten yourself? Come here sit down and have breakfast.”  
Kreacher opens his mouth to protest and closes it without saying anything. Severus watches us with curiosity. A house elf asked to sit down with wizards? Why not? It seems fitting. The three of us were close to Regulus and we're in this together. There's no difference. Kreacher shivers and rocks on his feet.  
“Oh c'mon, don't make such a fuss. You've sat beside me at this table plenty of times before.”  
“Only to feed you your porridge, Master Sirius.”  
Severus' mouth twitches slightly at the image.  
“All right, then consider this your punishment for forcing me to eat porridge. I order you to sit down and eat your breakfast.” 

I try to sound strict while there's no denying that I think the situation extremely funny. Kreacher's eyes are bulging out of his head, his ears flapping while he's struggling between the two evils.  
He can do the unthinkable and sit down with us which is going against nearly everything he believes in or he can disobey a direct order. He finally decides to obey and sits down beside me on the very edge of a chair nibbling on a buttered scone and sipping warm milk. He throws wary glances at Severus as if he waits to be hit by a hex or struck down by a lightning from his dead ancestors.  
Nothing of the kind happens.  
I can see the severe disapproval in Severus' face. I guess it reminds him of Hermione's ill-fated attempts to free the elves. I have no intention to free Kreacher. The shock would kill him. Malfoy's Dobby was probably the only elf in 1000 years who could cope with being free. I've seen a few of the unhappy creatures who had lost their Death Eater owners in the war. They are hiding in Knockturn Alley. They belonged to the old families for generations. Belonged to, there's a fine distinction to simply being owned by a wizard. Kreacher knows deep inside. He belongs to the House of Black as much as I do.  
“In memory of Gimpsy,” I whisper in his ear. He looks at me sheepishly and he understands. Gimpsy, the first elf who cared for a Black, not a slave, a companion who cared for her wizard. Nevertheless he hurries to swallow his scones and downs his milk to rush back to the sink and start cleaning in a frenzy.

~Severus~

I notice the way the elf's fearful face turning to relief. “Very amusing, Sirius. Just splendid the way you treat your inferiors. Very respectful and in joining with his wishes.”  
“It is.” Sirius looks unashamed. He whispered words of comfort to the house-proud creature that I could not hear. Perhaps he can be correct in this instance. But I want to goad him. He's waiting for it. I want to snarl at him but it would just embarrass Kreacher even more, I'd like to see what he would do in Kreacher's situation. Mum always said, Severus, you can be right or you can be happy. Pick one.  
Why give me the choice? I know what I chose: I like to be right. I decide it is in my best interest and Sirius' not to be right just for one day. Hmph. I doubt the resolution will last an hour but I'll make the attempt. Does that mean I can't sneer? I can't make it past thirty seconds once I'm surrounded by Death Eaters.  
“Loyalty, heritage, true to one's kind come what may,” Kreacher croons to himself audibly 'under his breath' - for Sirius' benefit, obviously. “Master wants a nice clean break. Master is hoooome.”  
He must have said the right thing. I'm burning to ask, to demand what was said, but where there is a veil of concealment there is usually a purpose or reason for it. There is an odd connection here I swear was not possible yesterday. Kreacher refills my coffee and I look at those reddened eyes again.  
“Do you mind telling my why Kreacher is acting like a nutbar?” I ask Sirius in an undertone. “He hasn't muttered under his breath for a long time, and now it's praise, yet more strange than his former venom.”  
Sirius shrugs carelessly but his ears and cheeks are faintly pink. Do I want to be happy or right? Can't I be both? He's refusing to say a word, leaning back in his chair. So far that he falls backwards.  
I snort with laughter, that hyena-tinged crow. I put out my hand with every intention of withdrawing it at the last minute but I end up pulling him up, and he falls back again, laughing. That's twice he's crashed now! Three times, actually, including the rebound.  
“Shall we make our way upstairs? See Regulus' picture? Before you crack something other than your skull? It's so dense it's very hard to shatter, one gets that with stubborn skulls.” I'm laughing more humanly. Seeing him lying there... what I wouldn't give for the chance to hit him with a Tickling Charm. But he's laughing too. He staggers to his feet.  
“Wait until Regulus hears I've tipped my chair twice. I used to do it just to entertain him...”  
“That's not Regulus. It's an enchanted drawing.” So much for my resolution.  
“You had to remind me, so very kind.” Sirius sarcasm.  
“Pleased to have been some service.” Mock politeness works well on some occasions.  
We clamber up the stairs and enter the drawing room. The portrait of Phineas Nigellus greets the pair of us. “Headmaster, the dolt Longbottom has a message. You're needed at Hogwarts for a staff meeting about the appointment of a new Defence...”  
“Yes, yes.” I snap at him. “Go on. When is it?”  
“This afternoon at three-thirty.” That's likely to be when the funeral is over. Saved by the bell. Or the staff.  Regulus' portrait appears to be awake too. We walk to it and face him. “You must have mixed feelings.” Sirius says.  
“You could tell?” It's Regulus' turn for a mocking tone. “I feel uneasy as long as father's study remains occupied. It's hard to get past it when it's in the same house,” he finishes more desperately. I wish I could help but my version of help usually turns out to be a hindrance in and of itself.  
“It's hard for us all. You'll be able to breathe soon enough.” Sirius is patient or stubborn or a mixture. I prefer to think stubborn. He's every bit an ass as I am.

~Sirius~

Isn't the whole situation bizarre enough without discussing it with the deceased himself? Regulus obviously wants to be involved. I shouldn't complain. In his place I'd be even more obnoxious.  
“Will they come to see me off? I mean those who are still alive and free?”  
“We invited everyone you named, Reggie and all will come except for old Nott who is not well. Nott will send his son instead. We'll meet with them at the chapel. Only Andromeda will come here before.”  
Regulus's smirks rather insolently.  “What a relief. Severus, we don't need to worry. Sirius always behaves himself when Andromeda is near. Oh by the way...,” he's now grinning broadly. “did I spot Mother's pearls around her neck at the party?”  
Severus doesn't reply, but the way he looks at me shows he still thinks there's more than I like to admit. I sigh.  
“Just to avoid anyone getting funny ideas. Stop grinning, Reggie!  Why is everyone in this family so obsessed with matchmaking? I was thirteen and thought I loved her. She was wise enough to refuse me.  We've been like brother and sister ever since and that's fine with me. We both expect more from a marriage than convenience and kindness. She was the most beautiful and kindest witch I've ever met. I still think she is, but I am not in love with her and I have not intention to ask her again. Don't you dare to drop clever hints to her, Reggie or you end up in a drawer again!”

~Severus~

I snigger a little at the idea of a thirteen-year-old Sirius seriously proposing to Andromeda. I stifle it at the look on Sirius' face, like someone both irritable and constipated. I just snort and shake my head at Regulus, who has his mouth open again. “I wouldn't risk it, Regulus. You don't want to get on the wrong side of someone who can tip over their chair and manage to land on the floor twice. Even Kreacher was ready to split his sides. Isn't that the most awe-inspiring, forbidding image?”  
Regulus laughs just as the doorbell goes off and there is hammering on the door below. Regulus suddenly has a tense and nervous face and Sirius looks as though his blood has run cold. I won't let Reg leave the room, I don't want him to witness them removing the body.  
“Just stay where you are. It will be over in less than half an hour, most likely,” I tell Regulus.

We hear Kreacher's bullfrog voice from the hallway.

“They are taking Master's body, and Master wears his locket, Kreacher is a good elf and kept it safe those dark days...Master Regulus is really going this time. At least Kreacher can see no nasty Muggle disturbs the funeral.”  
We hear his voice inching down the staircase.

“Kreacher's service to Master Regulus will never be over...Kreacher keeps him inside as much as Kreacher kept the family treasures...Kreacher will go to his Master Sirius. Master Sirius needs his Kreacher.”  
There were three other voices. The guttural rasping of a goblin and a male human voice, mixing with Sirius' intense speech.  
A sound of walking and a door opening. The scrape of something. A wizard casting a Hovering Charm. I think of 'Mobilcorpus' and wince at my thoughts which seem as always painful or sarcastic, it comes just as unwillingly as willingly. I suppose unintentional snark that has all the bite of the calculated kind. Regulus' perfect corpse out there to be laid under the earth. I suppose they will prepare the body and I hope they don't let him just decompose. Hope they don't release him from the last spell he'd met, from his faithful house-elf.  
The house-elf who is now crying his misery. Be quiet, Kreacher, people other than Regulus are lost too. I think of those lost to me. Evan Rosier always made Hogwarts tolerable. Lucius was once a proud prefect, now formless as a shadow, a trace of himself just discernible. He's lost too. Wilkes. Avery. Nymphadora Tonks. The Nott who is too ill to come. The waste of space called Richard Flint, who will no doubt ask me doltish questions about Sayla's watch. He was once a man, now a joke. Even Lupin had his place. Albus Dumbledore, no matter how my views have changed. Travers. Mulciber, we knew each other ever since he irritated Lily on the first train ride to Hogwarts. Antonin Dolohov. Regulus Arcturus Black himself.  And of course Lily Evans-Potter. I'm scratching the surface. There were the Prewetts, the Bones', the McKinnons. Fred Weasley. Charity Burbage. Who cares what side. They were there and now they are not. So much has changed but for occasional faces, Horace, Minerva, a few others, who remained. None as good as those who perished.  
I may be lost in thought but I notice Regulus trying to edge out of his drawing. I tell him off. Sirius edges in.  
“We may as well get ready, they'll be ready in an hour or so. Andromeda sent an owl saying she would be here shortly, before lunch. We should skip lunch, I think,” he adds.  
I know not to cross Andromeda if I don't want a formidable witch and an angry, talented wizard hexing me to smithereens. It's not worth the hassle. I'll try to keep my snark in check around her. Most of all, she means so much to Sirius.  
The doorbell chimes again, the knocks on the door soft but distinct. I think I like her style. Sirius rushes to the door and Regulus starts to snigger. I silence him with a look.  
“Hello, Severus,” she says, extending her hand. I don't know what to do so I click my heels like a Prussian and kiss her hand. She giggles. “I've come early so we can depart soon. I want some time by the casket to say goodbye. Thank you, both for recovering him.”  
“Kreacher did more than both of us combined,” Sirius says humbly. “Are you quite ready then?”  
Andromeda nods her head, her eyes wet with emotion. She turns to me and looks quizzical.  
“I'm ready.” I can tell my eyes are glittering by the feel and by the look Sirius gives me.  
“Yeah, me too,” Sirius informs me. “We're to Apparate at Highgate Cemetery, at two o'clock, as you told the others I hope. Want to go get ready to greet the guests, then?”  
Andromeda smiles at us getting along. I can't blame her. It's nearly obscene given Sirius' and my history.  
“I certainly feel ill-disposed to lunch. Yes, I told them where and when. Do I look like a blithering fool to you? I'll go if we have something constructive to do there. The body won't arrive for some time?”  
“It was taken care of. They say they'll use Kreacher's protection, and they've removed the body to the chapel. It's been protected from prying Muggles. Kreacher's job is to ensure our privacy.”  
“Theo Nott...he's worse than I was at his age, if somewhat similar. Yes, I noticed. He's so jumpy, he'll have set concealment charms around everything I'm sure.”  
“So we're off,” Sirius smiles a little.  
“We're off,” I echo.


	67. Sirius: Funeral at Highgate

_~Sirius~_

We grab our coats and stand in front of the high gate of the now officially disused cemetery in an instant. The Muggles use it as a park, a historic site nowadays, but on a Tuesday in late December there aren't many tourists walking the broad paths under the large leafless trees. Andromeda takes my arm and before Severus can any do anything against it she grabs him, too. Kreacher walks in the shadow of our long cloaks right behind us.  
“I want to see the crypt, before the others arrive. Do you mind?”  
Andromeda presses my arm in agreement. Severus doesn't object. He is lost in his own thoughts and tolerates my sentimental mood. I haven't visited my parents graves before. Why would I have done it? When? I had good reason to expect them to rise from the crypt and curse me.  
A Muggle with his dog rushes past us. He glances at us with suspicion. Even in London and in broad daylight three people in long black cloaks do look odd on an old graveyard. I trust the goblins to have taken precautions that the Muggle police will ignore any reports.  
There are many names on the huge stone monument, from Phineas' father who built the house at Grimmauld Square to the freshly carved name of my brother. Balthasar Black, Severus' ancestor is also buried here. Nearly 200 years of Blacks. To read the names of the two previous Sirius feels strange and reassuring at the same time, belonging somewhere without having to prove it. Almost nothing to prove, Marius Black, Phineas' Squib son is not buried in the main grave, but he's still close to the family and his small stone kept clean by the everlasting contract with the goblins.  
I slowly approach the names of my parents. I feel the need to tell them that Regulus will join them today.  
I didn't want anyone who doesn't really care for my brother to attend. The Malfoys, Flint and young Mr Nott understand. Horace Slughorn shows more backbone than I expected; he is here despite the suspicious company. He even takes care of Theodore Nott who was a bit lost when he arrived. He really reminds me of Severus as a boy, wary and calculated in his moves and words. I thank him for coming and he mutters a carefully phrased apology for his father's absence. Lucius looks respectable on the outside and glares at every single one of us. Even at Narcissa who immediately joined Andromeda and at Draco who can't decide whether he wants to stay with his classmate or should dare to approach Severus. He decides for Severus who is doing his best to keep Lucius and Flint apart. It doesn't prove too difficult during the service. Lucius is family and quickly manoeuvred to the front row between Narcissa and Andromeda.  
After last night I feel more happiness than grief at my brother's funeral. He is back where he belongs with our parents and he's with me in my heart and mind, my bear guardian.  
The service is short. It's a quiet gathering. Nobody feels like giving a speech. We all heard enough of heroes who gave their lives in the service of whichever master. They are dead and we miss them.  
Kreacher whom we keep under a charm to distract Muggle eyes sobs at his master's tomb. He stands up rather abruptly and turns to Severus. I'm certainly not the only one feeling the urge to stop the elf for his own good. One has to be as mad as a house elf to hug Severus Snape – in public of all things. On the other hand Kreacher might go where I don't dare to tread. Showing gratitude for his help, for him being there when nobody else was. For still being here with me. Not just because of Regulus, I cling to that desperate hope.  
Severus looks more than uncomfortable, yet he hasn't got the heart to push away the elf.  
“.... greatest wizard... brave... loyal.... so grateful.... bringing my masters back home...” Kreacher's declarations are a bit incoherent, but I haven't missed that he used the plural form. I grin sheepishly and put my hand on Kreacher's shoulder.  
“I think Master Severus got your point. It's enough; you're wetting his robes.”  
I stretch out my own hand and Severus takes it. There's no need for words. We both press a little too strongly and I – we both – hold on a little too long.  
Richard Flint takes his chance to approach me after we laid the coffin in the crypt. He is eager to find out about my real intentions. Severus said bottom of the Death Eater pecking order. Yes, that's clear, but he's not stupid. He tries to recommend himself by referring to his friendship with Uncle Alphard and doesn't mention my father. He does know that I stayed on good terms with my uncle and is unsure about my opinion on my father. I can't resist the temptation to confuse him and mention that I remember that he played chess with my father.  
“You remember? You could only have been ...” He waves his hand about a yard above the ground.  
“A bit more than that. Six or seven, I think. I do remember, because my father rarely had guests who were not family.” He blinks nervously. Lucius has overheard it and smirks. I can't hear what he says to Severus, but Severus frowns slightly and glares at me. I smile back. Oh c'mon, I've told you I've been raised to deal with these folks.  
I turn my attention back to Flint who mutters something about Alphard's and Orion's kindness towards him and their generosity to overlook his inadequate lineage. Sixth generation pureblood, hardly better than half-blood in my mother's eyes.  
“My father and uncle considered you a friend and my brother held you in high esteem. That's why you're here.” Condescending and arrogant as my words are he beams at me. Some people like being put in place, because it means they have one. Flint continues to blab about my father and about Regulus – noble, chivalrous, brave – insight much beyond his years, when older men were still caught in their erroneous ways. I ponder the irony of Gryffindor virtues used by one former Death Eater to describe another. I agree with him, though. I notice something else , a genuine warmth in his words, his face, a tear in his eyes. Yes, he's trying to flatter me, but his affection for Regulus is honest. After a while he feels reassured and thankfully says goodbye. That sets Severus free from the burden to watch Lucius. I'm about to join him, but Slughorn gets in my way, Nott still at his tails.  
The same compliments for my dead brother, more cunningly phrased and the same genuine affection. He hasn't changed much since he tried to recruit me for his Slug Club and I refused every time. He never gave up. Now he seems happy to welcome me as a colleague, complains about the workload as a teacher and the poor pay. He asks me, if I will take the position of Head of Gryffindor. I'm baffled. It never occurred to me. Minerva has retired from all her duties except teaching Transfiguration at Severus' return. Neville Longbottom succeeded her. In my opinion Neville is the perfect choice, a Gryffindor like we should have been. It's the Headmaster's decision anyway and that's what I tell him. Slughorn beams at me.  
“I was delighted to hear that you have finally settled your …. disagreement, m'boy. So delighted. I've always thought that it was just a misunderstanding caused by the unfortunate prejudice against Slytherin House. The two brightest boys of your year and wasting your talents fighting each other....“  
There's a distinct snort from Severus and I snigger.  
“Would you've preferred us to concentrate our combined efforts on a different target? I should think you had enough chances to appreciate our creativity.”  
The old walrus quivers. Severus thinks it necessary to reassure him.  
“Don't worry Horace. Black has signed a contract which forbids him to hex his Slytherin colleagues without the Headmaster's permission.”  
Sluggy doesn't seem to be 100% sure that the Headmaster will refuse permission in his case.  
“Have I signed such a restrictive clause?” I know I haven't.  
“Of course you have. Forgot to read the magical fine print again, Gryffindor?”  
“Boys, you really shouldn't scare your old teacher like that.” Draco and Nott whisper with each other in amusement about us being called 'boys' or about Sluggy being still nervous about my pranks.  
Slughorn continues to calm himself down. “I've always said that Gryffindors and Slytherins should try to become friends. I had so many hopes for you and Lily Potter.”  
Severus' face darkens. Slughorn is a bloody idiot. He realizes his mistake himself, when Severus coldly tells him that it's time to return to Hogwarts to prepare for the staff meeting.  
Slughorn says goodbye and disapparates. The Malfoys follow his example. Draco has invited Nott to join them which he does. Andromeda gives me a hug, shakes hands with Sev and leaves us, too.  
We linger on, not ready to part. I wish he would stay with me, but he is expected at the staff meeting. It's not for long I tell myself.  
There's a human form approaching from another row of graves. For a split second I think it's James haunting me. It's Harry, of course. He stuffs his invisibility cloak into his pockets.  
Severus frowns at him. “Potter, where's Weasley? What is so difficult to understand about 'family and friends only'?”  
“Snape! You were about to leave. Don't let me keep you from your duties. Sirius, we need to talk.”  
I put my hand on Severus' arm and try to look confident.  
This talk was inevitable and I have to do it alone. Please don't make things worse.  
“I'll be in touch as soon as possible.”  
Severus gives me a slight nod of agreement. “See you later.” Before he Disapparates he turns to Kreacher. “Don't let anyone harm your master.”  
Kreacher stands up straight. “Kreacher will always protect his master! He promised his mistress long ago.”  
The look on Harry's face could have curdled fresh milk.


	68. Severus: The Staff Meeting

~Severus~

“Don't let him harm your master,” I said sardonically to Kreacher before turning into the compression of Disapparition. I focus on the one destination constantly open to me, the one in the Headmaster's office. It's there and not my real office in the dungeons near my...preferred students that I concentrate on being. The Headmaster's office is barred to all but me. I have the only decent Apparition point in Hogwarts castle. Phineas is waiting.

“Professor Snape, the meeting. It begins in ten minutes in the staff room. Longbottom wanted to hold it here. Out of the question, the dolt.”

“Enough, Phineas.” I say, smirking. “I'll be gone for the duration, then will write a note to Sirius explaining the essentials. He must be Defence teacher. If they refuse me, I'll veto them using any method, if I have to dig into past law.”

“Spoken like a true friend and Slytherin.” Phineas says airily.

I half heard him. I stood on the spiral moving staircase, an obnoxious time-wasting device, and exit the office. I hurry along in a bit of a snit toward the staff room. Two female students who are staying for the holidays skirt me when they see my expression. Good.

Then I hear a last line from the girls now turning the corner. “...wash his hair.” Giggles. They just set me in an even more edgy mood.

I'm burying Regulus and exhuming Sirius. Odd thought. I continue to stride the hallways scattering students.

I bang open the office door and see the other Professors staring at me, all present. Minerva and Longbottom with their pride, Hagrid, slightly tipsy and Horace, who I notice looks very harried, Aurora and Terry, Sybill with sherry bottle in hand, and Zacharias who is giving me a look of dislike, what's new, Septima Vector, of Arithmancy and Bathsheba Babbling who taught me Ancient Runes. They all look extremely mistrusting, excepting Septima and Minerva. I sit down at the head of the table and watch eyes narrow as they look at me.

Dislike just trails after me like a loyal, wounded dog with gnawing jaws. And I just have to feed it.

I take out my papers and people shuffle theirs. “To the point!” Minerva says with a barely concealed tight-lipped smile, “Have you decided to hire Sirius Black to the position of Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher?”

Thank you, Minerva, for not beating around the bush. It begins.

***

Fifty-seven extremely lengthy minutes later it's over with. Sirius is Defence Master. The staff file out until no one is left but me and Minerva.

“I heard that you did a very decent thing, helping Sirius in getting back...” she begins. I love to interrupt her. And I have to.

“What you've heard about my decency is overrated and to be forgotten.” I glare at her. How did she find out? Never underestimate Gryffindor nosiness. Or overestimate Slughorn.

“I am writing a letter to Sirius to tell him what occurred, letting him sit on it, and returning to Spinner's End.” I try to mislead her. Minerva takes what she knows is bait and leaves. I'm only going for a few minutes. There's a book I want to peruse. Then to Grimmauld Place for a late dinner. My stomach is in knots thinking of returning to Sirius and letting him know that it is not only for Regulus' sake and that of prudence that I want him here.

I may have to read the whole Muggle book. A newer one of Tobias' that I should have read but considered too base Muggle. How To Win Friends And Influence People. Thinking of it I flush a mite. Dale Carnegie. I need help, Slytherin help, from a nearly mindless Muggle? The name stuck all of these years. The book likely will reveal nothing.

But for Sirius' sake, I have to try. Friendship. Even to go as far as to read Dale Carnegie and see what it offers.

***

I learned nothing from the endless lists of personal propaganda. How hard I tried is too telling.

Sirius will have his letter by now. The sun went under early, or did I stare at the informative, miraculous book for that long? It is eight-thirty. Time to enter the fireplace of the sitting room of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place.


	69. Sirius: Stubborn Love

~Sirius~

_The three of us Apparate at the corner of Grimmauld Place. The three of us means Harry, Kreacher and me of course. I'm nervous as hell. Can I make Harry understand without hurting his feelings? I won't give in. I can't give in this time. I am who I am, a Black in Gryffindor. Love it or leave it. I will always love Harry, but I will not let him stand between me and the memory of my brother or between me and Severus. I will not try to meet his expectations against my own judgement.  
Harry looks as stubborn and determined as I do. He reminds me so much of James right now that it hurts. He is not James! He is not responsible for my past mistakes........neither was James. I've made my own choices. Would James have rejected me, if I had not jumped on the Gryffindor bandwagon and cut all ties to my family? I will never know. Will Harry reject me? We will see._

_Harry walks to the kitchen. I'm glad he does. I don't need a portrait to make things even more difficult. Kreacher offers tea and the left-over biscuits. Harry absent-mindedly takes a stag. I wait for him to start with his accusations. I don't need to prove my innocence. Harry seems to have similar ideas and so we silently sit at the wooden table stubbornly nibbling our biscuits. Until Harry can't stand it anymore._

“Sirius, I don't know you anymore! What's wrong with you? You don't want to be with your friends anymore and prefer purebloods, Slytherins, Death Eaters and worst of all Snape.”

“All the same to you, isn't it? May I remind you that I am a pureblood wizard myself and a Black and excuse me for being a bit sensitive about being called a Death Eater or Dark Wizard. Last time I was called those things I woke up in Azkaban.”

“That's not what I meant. You know that.”

“Then you should say what you mean. Harry please, listen. You say you don't know me anymore. What makes you think you have ever known me? We've only met a few times under extreme circumstances. I tried to put up a brave face, but really I was a wreck. I've been drunk most of the time. In a way I welcomed Bella's curse to put an end to it.  
When I escaped from Azkaban the only thing I wanted to do was to make up for all those lost years. I couldn't. The boy who had been pulling at Padfoot's ears and tail to get a ride on my back and had been throwing toy bricks at Peter Pettigrew the last times I saw him, suddenly was 5 feet tall and I had no idea who you were. It was too late to be the godfather I once wanted to be …. the godfather James wanted me to be ….. and I had no idea how to be the godfather you needed. I tried to meet your expectations instead and failed pathetically. You were the spitting image of James and I assumed you were.... I wanted you to be like him. You're not! It's all right. You're probably a much better man than we were at your age.”

“Sirius, I do understand. Take all the time you need to recover....”

 _I interrupt him impatiently._ “That's what I'm trying to tell you. I have recovered. I have come to my senses. James died 20 years ago. I survived. Obviously, we were not inseparable. I am alive and I want a life of my own.”

“I'm not stopping you. We're just worried. You seemed so happy when you came back and there's always a room for you at the Burrow or at my house. You don't need to spend your time with those Slytherins. “

“I certainly don't want to spend the rest of my days as a house guest at the Burrow or your cottage. I don't need someone to worry about me or look after me. I've always been able to look after myself. I'd like to spend time with people my age, people I have something in common with, people I like.”

I don't care that the tone of my last words does unnerve Harry.

“People you like means SNAPE? What kind of spell has he put on you?”

 _Turning dead serious again I reply quietly:_ “None! Can't you just stop making Severus responsible for everything you don't like or understand? This is the mindset of a 16-year-old. Gryffindor good – Slytherin evil! Good Merlin, Harry! Severus is no more of a Dark Wizard than I am. At least that's what Regulus used to say and he knew both of us pretty well.  
Close your mouth; you're lucky that there aren't any flies in December. I am NOT saying I am a Dark Wizard, but I've never had qualms about using … what does Hermione call them?.... not Ministry approved spells. Neither had James or Lily, we all used Severus' spells or improved potions occasionally. Never considered them too Dark. I guess my insolent brother tipped him off about a few of my discoveries, too. Let's say Severus and I were both very interested in.... Advanced Magic.”

_Harry has stopped arguing. He crumbles a helpless Hippogriff in his fist. I feel like I should be more kind and patient, but the whole situation makes me more and more stubborn. Who does he think he is? My mum? 'Sirius, don't play with the wrong sort!'  
No, this doesn't get me anywhere. Change of strategy._

“Harry?.......” I try to sound as kindly as possible and wait for him to look at me. “Harry, let's try to talk like adults. Do you really think I want to join an Ex-Death Eater Club or something and plot to overthrow the Ministry with Dark Magic?”

 _He shakes his head._ “Nooo! But...”

“Good, I'm glad we've settled that because I still believe in what we fought for and that blood shouldn't matter at all. Family does matter to me, though; my brother does matter to me. Severus helped me to bury him. We invited former Death Eaters and some other Slytherins, all people who knew him and cared for him. Excuse me for not wanting people there who never met him or have no idea who he was.  
It was a question of respect to inviting his friends, not mine. Severus liked this gathering even less than I did.  
Which leads me to my next question. Severus has been on our side since the first war. For his own reasons perhaps, but many of us had their own reasons. Without him, your task had been a good deal more difficult. He's not exactly a fan of yours, but he's not the enemy. I enjoyed his company in the last few days despite the sad task we had to fulfil. I enjoyed our correspondence and I'm looking forward to teaching at Hogwarts. Do you honestly believe that Severus intends to curse or poison me or tries to control my mind? Why should he?”

“I admit he's been a great help during the last war and Minerva wanted him as her successor when she retired to teaching only. Neville even says Snape's is a decent headmaster. He said he's fair.” I hide my smile behind the empty teacup. Harry is a good lad. He's just a little bit stubborn when Severus is concerned and overprotective about me. ”But with you, it's different; it's personal. He believes you tried to feed him to a werewolf. You hated each other's guts for 30 years. ”

“Yes, we did, 25 years are more precise. What happened before our 5th year was a bit different at least for me. We hated each other openly, couldn't get along for 5 minutes. Don't you remember everyone telling us to be civil for the Order's sake? We couldn't. We both couldn't even pretend to be indifferent. Nothing could make us act like we trusted each other, not our mutual aims, not the sheer necessity to work together, not even Dumbledore's orders or Molly's admonitions or Remus' pleas for peace. Severus had never said he believes what I told him about that night in the tunnel if he didn't. We both don't use the word friendship lightly. If Severus intended to have his revenge by having me work for him at Hogwarts, he'd said so and dared me to accept anyway. I'm perfectly safe in his company, safer perhaps than with anyone else who is nice and kind. I dare hope he gives me the same credit. Harry, I listen to your concerns when you can bring up reasonable evidence. I'll answer your questions as far as they respect my privacy. I will not report all my doings or conversations to the Head of Auror Office. I consider myself an adult man, able to make my own decisions, to choose my company to my liking. You're not my father. I'm neither a child nor insane. Can you respect that?”

“You're twisting my words. I don't want to control you. I just don't want you to get hurt! I don't want to lose you again!”

“Oh Harry, you're not going to lose me. You can't be everyone's guardian and certainly not mine. I can take care of myself. Severus is no danger to me. I'm sorry that my attempts to get my life in order make you feel uncomfortable. I need room to breathe. I really don't want to hurt you. You don't need to support my decisions; just let me …. follow my own judgement. Think about it, discuss it with your friends, whatever you like.”

“You won't change your mind, will you?” _I simply shake my head in reply. Harry continues._ “Promise me to be careful, with Malfoy and those other guys. There's still more than one wizard on the street who doesn't believe in your innocence. Try not to provoke the Ministry too much. And absolutely no further adventures like your cave trip. Promise!”

I bite my lips not to say 'Yes Mum!' Instead I say: “I promise.”  
_I don't have another dead brother who needs recovering from a cave._

***

_Harry has left after reminding me to make an appointment with Kingsley as soon as possible. He is a reasonable man and Caradoc was his friend. He'll see the necessity to deal with the bodies in an appropriate respectful way. I scribble a note to him asking to meet him tomorrow morning. I want it all over before I leave for Hogwarts._

_Another task I'd rather avoided waits for me in the drawing room.  
Regulus greets me with a rather exasperated_ “Is it over?”

“Yes, it is over. Everyone we invited has been there and it's been a decent ceremony you would have liked.” I reply, thinking that the last phrase is rubbish the moment I say it. Nobody would like his own funeral.

 _Regulus smirks._ “That's not what I meant. Has Saint Potter given you his approval, when you begged his forgiveness?”

“I didn't beg for anything!” _I don't think I can stand the same pointless discussion a second time. I don't need to. It's Regulus._

“You do care for the Potter boy, don't you?” _Regulus smiles generously._ “I may be willing to meet him again if you give me your word he has more sense and better manners than his father.”

“He is less like James than he looks, I assure you. ...But James wasn't as bad as you think. No, really! He wasn't. Not worse than me.” _I add sniggering._

“You're my brother. Brothers are supposed to be annoying.”

“Thank you for reminding me. I nearly forgot that.”

_We're both laughing. Regulus gets serious again._

“Sirius? There's something else. Kreacher told me.... About your Patronus. I'd like to see it.”

“Getting sentimental, are we?”

“Only checking, if you got it right...”

_Kreacher interrupts us carrying an owl. I'm a bit surprised that Kingsley replies so quickly, but then I recognize the owl. It's from Severus._


	70. Severus: Memo from the Headmaster

Headmaster's Office,  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Sirius Black – Eyes only

12 Grimmauld Place

 

The funeral is over, but my – our - associates don't seem to know about it, thank Salazar. They could simply not understand. They cannot help but be slightly disturbed at the choice I've made for DADA professor, knowing our history. I'm sure we have enough enmity left to please their expectations from time to time.

 

I simply stated and restated the truth of the matter: you are highly qualified for the position, having personally outwitted the Dark Arts. They simply looked at me as if I were a singing zebra. I should not be able to see past my overlarge nose, so sniped Longbottom. I taught him well. He is pleased with the decision but doesn't trust my motives. Slughorn tried to naysay him but kept curling up like a leaf in a high wind.

 

I will tell you who you are working with:

 

Minerva McGonagall, for the short term, Transfiguration (Gryffindor) Very pleased to have you, is one person who can see us being amicable.

 

Neville Longbottom, Head of Gryffindor, Herbology. Bluntly refuses to see that I would adopt you as a candidate without ulterior motives. Pfft. I haven't ousted him yet have I?

 

Rubeus Hagrid, Care of Magical Creatures (Gryffindor) “Whaddya thinking to bring Sirius in? He's been through enough, Snape, and you not likin' him...”

 

Yourself, Defence against the Dark Arts (See how many Gryffindors?)

 

Horace Slughorn, Head of Slytherin, Potions. He's intrigued as you know. He finds the whole thing amusing and looks to see how he can benefit personally.

 

Zacharias Smith, Muggle Studies. (Hufflepuff) He sneered so well I thought I'd set him as an honorary Slytherin.

 

Sybill Trelawney, Divination (Squib? No, a Hufflepuff) She predicted your imminent demise if you were to join the staff. I reminded her that she is slightly late in her calculations. She smells like a sherry mill. I will eject her soon. Splitting classes with Firenze, who is at the very least, not a fraud. He said simply, “yes.”

 

Aurora Sinistra, Astronomy (Ravenclaw) Agrees with me that you are the best candidate, “Did Potter put Black up to applying?” I snort.

 

Terry Boot, Charms, (Head of Ravenclaw) “Why Black? Why not put Neville in as DADA and get Sprout back? Bit of a big head from what I hear.”

 

Septima Vector, Arithmancy (Slytherin) She says, I must have my reasons, there is usually a reason for subterfuge such as this. I thought she was quoting my brain.

 

Bathsheba Babbling. Ancient Runes, Head of Hufflepuff, just shrugged and said: “Whatever pleases you, Headmaster.”

 

The Head Boy is a Ravenclaw, the Head Girl a Slytherin. You'll find out. (Don't ask me to remember everyone's names, I can see names but never faces or other associations with people. Even as a spy I had a hard time with it. Ask me a question on some bizarre theory or the date of a magical discovery or rare potion ingredients. Not people.)

  
I will be returning to Grimmauld Place shortly after the meeting. I expect I can be there by 19:30 at the latest. I need to check on the book situation at Spinners' End, what to do with the accumulated magic of centuries. Perhaps they would suit the many bookcases laden with ugly stone busts of half-gargoyles, I mean, our relatives? The books themselves would be happier in an all-magical household.

 

Yours, Severus


	71. Sirius/Severus: Exploring limits

_~Sirius~_

_I lower the parchment and announce to Regulus and Kreacher:_ “You may call me Professor Black from now on.”

“The hell I will. The Wizarding World must have come down to an all time low when someone like you is teaching the youth.” Regulus laughs.

“Given the fact that among my recent predecessors were illustrious names like Quirinius Quirrell, Gilderoy Lockhart, Dolores Umbridge and your mate Amycus Carrow, I guess Severus considers me a massive improvement.”

 _Regulus gasps._ “You're kidding, aren't you? Who in his right mind would hire them?”

“Voldemort put a curse on the job. You surely remember that none stayed for more than a year even in our times. Dumbledore was running out off suitable candidates and Severus had to hire whom your master suggested during the last year of the war....But you wanted to see my Patronus. I feel like it right now. Expecto Patronum!”

_A happy thought, there are two. I'm feeling very happy right now. I have a job that interests me and Severus is coming back. He said he wouldn't after our task is finished, but now he wrote he will be here for dinner._

“Kreacher, dinner for two! And I hope you've learned the headmaster's taste during your time at Hogwarts. Nothing too grand I suppose.” _I need to remind him. In his eagerness to please he might be overdoing it. Kreacher disappears. The bear cub is still frolicking around the room. Regulus watches it._

“Sirius, when you leave for Hogwarts... are you going to take me? I mean are you going to take this portrait with you? I don't want to be left alone in this house again.”

“Of course I'm going to take you. I wish I could have taken you with me for real when I left for the first time. I've never wanted to leave you behind. Your assistance is needed anyway. I'm sometimes at a loss with Sev. He still doesn't really trust me.”

“Sev doesn't really trust anyone. Nobody has ever given him a reason to trust. Get used to it is my advice. You can trust him. In your terms, his bark is worse than his bite.”

“Hey little brother, you haven't earned the right to make dog jokes.”

_Regulus smirks. I get serious again._

“He can trust me, too. I really like him. I will do my utmost to earn his trust and I swear I will never let him down.”

_My last words feel solemn like a magic vow and I want them to be as binding. Regulus doesn't speak for a moment and when he speaks it's merely a whisper._

“The three of us together as friends, I always wanted it to be that way.”

_I remember him saying that after his first year. I called him mental. I'm pretty sure Severus found more eloquent words if he mentioned it to him. “Not before hell freezes and our world is turned upside down.” I've come to the conclusion that hell is the coldest place on earth._

_Kreacher hurries into the room again, carrying a second letter. Kingsley expects me at his office tomorrow morning at 10. The letter doesn't give any hints about his opinion on the matter. He'll come round when I tell him about Caradoc._

_~Severus~_

_I am covered with raindrops. Drenched, actually. I walked from an alley one street away. Sopping robes. I'll dry them when I feel like it. I come up the stairs at Number 12. Sirius left the door unlocked. I have the spell to make the lock and chains fall open, anyway. I wonder if he left it open for me but no, why would he? Friendly idiocy has never been the Black way. If it was, I wouldn't be back here._

_I hear movement in the sitting room, and sense someone or something is nearby. I narrow my eyes and look, drawing back into the shadows. Kreacher is at a window, his papery-skinned arm out for an incoming owl. I whisk to the door of the sitting room._

“He can trust me. I really like him. I will do my utmost to earn his trust and I swear I will never let him down.”

 _This is Sirius Black? Perhaps speaking to Regulus? If that's me he's talking about I will pretend not to have heard until some slip occurs, then I will shove his well-meant but certainly false words. He doesn't feel they are false perhaps. But they always are, with everyone else._

_I hear whispering, indistinct, and draw back into the shadow as Kreacher comes down the hall bearing a letter. I walk back downstairs, quietly and quickly, and hear the door of the sitting room open. I make a mild racket with the locks, ensuring that someone notices me._

_Sirius charges into the hallway and says,_ “Kreacher will have dinner ready in a jiffy, I told him to surprise us. Yes, I told him nothing fancy. Hang up that cloak, you're soaked through with the chill rain!”  _He's holding a corner of a door with his hand, striking an imposing image. I wince. I can't stop the association with that body language of his teenage years._

“I hadn't noticed. I'll have to keep a watch on you as a Professor. I do not hire idiotic people who state the self-evident, whatever their wishes. That must be why I am here. I can't trust that Sirius Black will do as I wish.” I don't mean the last sentence but I'm so irritated it gets through my verbal defences.

 _Dinner is a very stifled affair, but at last Sirius relaxes as he picks up a book._ “You'd like our family collection. You must have read a few when you came here to be with Regulus. Would you care to inspect the library?” _Sirius asks, and he's smiling as Kreacher takes away the leftover bits of pork chops, roast potatoes and overcooked vegetables. I nod at the elf encouragingly and he does the dishes at double speed. Did I glare at him? But the library._

“How it could have passed notice before now I don't know. I've seen enough to know I could get lost there.” _That's my remark. My true partner in this world might just be a book. Slight sarcasm and no one to share it with, it would bring up too many very awkward questions. I am eager to see the books and stand to show it. Sirius laughs at my apparent enthusiasm. He's pleased but I'm afraid I showed too much there. No use second-guessing myself more than usual._

 _I leave the kitchen and the carpets on the stairs are no longer worn. Kreacher must have restored them. They were depressingly bald and worn. Now they are back to being a rich deep and dark green, more Slytherin than emerald ones. Understated but speaking volumes. I really do have affection for that elf. But the books. I look at Sirius as we reach the library door._ “You may lead on, Professor Black. But I know enough of the system of this library to find my favourite books straight away. They're by subject, then author, then date. Regulus did show me enough that I find...”

 _I reach up into an upper row, slightly to the left_. “Adventures in Hexing.” _I read aloud._ “Simple and very powerful, and effective. My first book on the Dark Arts. Must have been knee high to a Kneazle when I first read it.” _Sirius looks amused. He reaches his arm into the row farthest from mine._

~Sirius~

_Severus considers that Dark Arts? I suppose we both knew it's content by heart before we came to Hogwarts. I smirk as I pass him my choice, “100 Curses for the Initiated”._

_He frowns and looks at the first page._

“You're kidding, aren't you? This is a Muggle book. None of the spells works.”

“It's darker than the hexes from your book. Just reading it makes you sick. My father bought it to show us what Muggles are like. He couldn't convince Reggie that anyone would really want to follow the instructions. Why in Merlin's name should anyone kill a black cat and bathe in its blood to call up a murderous demon?”

“ 'Adventures in Hexing' is not dark enough for you? No probably not, you and Potter cast those curses on everyone during our first years and noble Gryffindors wouldn't use Dark Arts.”

“I don't say they are nice. 'Adventures' is about combat spells. What are you trying to prove? That James and I used nasty spells? We did and so did you. We're not talking Ministry nonsense here, are we?”

“You used those curses and that makes them acceptable. Where's the limit for you? Use of human body parts? Deadly curses? The Unforgivables? I need to know what you intend to teach or more precisely what you refuse to teach because you have been so adamant about not teaching the Dark Arts.”

“The subject is Defence against the Dark Arts. The only Unforgivable which can be directly countered is the Imperius Curse. I'm willing to show it to NEWT students if you insist. However, I think one either has the strength to resist it or not. Better not get hit by it. The same with the Cruciatus Curse. Block it, dodge it or pray that the caster stops before you go mad. So my answer to what I intend to teach is duelling skills, detection spells and protective wards. For the early years how to avoid Dark Creatures, recognise them and how to deal with them, if you can't avoid them. What is the point in showing them real Dark Arts as you and I have seen? The fear will make them even more susceptible.”

“What does that mean in practise? The Wendelin the Weird approach? Enjoy the tickle of a Freezing Charm to quench Fiendfyre?”

“What are the chances that a random Hogwarts student is attacked with Fiendfyre, Sev,” _He smirks. I don't give him time to remind me of Mr Crabbe._ “...after what happened to the last one who tried? Just for my information are you trying to make a reasonable point about my teaching schedule or do you want to pick a fight? In the first case get to the point, in the latter... Ready when you are!”

~Severus~

“You stupid mutt, ready to fight, ever the reckless Gryffindor. Your spirit makes me groan. I think the students are allowed to have knowledge and seek knowledge. I do not think they have the right to be taught exactly how it works, more the existence of Dark Magic, combative or otherwise.” _I pause before speaking again._

“You tell me what you think should be taught? It is my syllabus and I will make the final decision. You make me regret my decision on whether to hire you or not. Certain advanced Dark Magic needs to be shown and only a little completely concealed.”

_I pick up_ _**Possession and Reanimation** _ _ and flick through it. It mentions Horcruxes. I place it back on the shelf.  _ “The students need to know the subject. It is how they are armed. Dumbledore refused to let me teach my DADA students Occlumency and Legilimency. Considered them too Dark for anyone but precious Harry. And lower your expectations of me getting along with Potter, I never shall.”

“He considered those Dark Arts?” _Sirius looks a bit sceptical. He ignores the Harry comment, and I wonder how his feelings for the boy, now a man, will affect my future dealings. But I am surrounded by books, not to be distracted._

“They have been considered such for ages. Occlumency is seen as darker, as no one can tell whether one is an agent of division or chaos or not. No one can force one to reveal the mind behind the mind. Legilimency is less subtle but no less fascinating, penetration of mental defence can have many layers. One can be driven mad merely by wielding such a spell wrongly or falling prey to it, as readily as with the Cruciatus Curse. But you know what they are.”

“You don't use it that way.” _Is there a small question mark to Sirius' statement?_

“Of course not.” _I tut impatiently._ “The students need arming against it, they need to be shown what it is like. And not just those grey areas, those morally ambiguous spells. What the Darkest Arts are. They need to be told of the real thing,” _I growl._

~Sirius~

“All right, you want to see the real thing?”

_I call for a large leather-bound volume from the topmost shelf. It glows in an ugly crimson when I move it to a small table. Severus moves closer, but he knows better than to touch it with bare hands. His eyes search the room for something. The dragonhide gloves are in a chest of drawers. I summon them._

“This is not an original, is it?”

“No, it's an early copy. Not even my family was mad enough to have an original in a house they want to live in.”

“The Dark Lord owned one. It has a power in itself. It seems to...”

“Call you? Whisper to you to open it? Yes, it does.”

_Severus looks at me. I can see he wants to try. Regulus said I can trust him. “No more a Dark Wizard than you are.” I can hear the book whisper, promising power beyond compare._

“Feel free to have a look...” _Maybe I am a reckless idiot._

_Severus slowly moves his hand over the cover. I know what he must feel. If he still craves the power the book offers I'm in deep trouble. He opens the first chapter. The illustration shows a wizard, tall and strong, figures crawl on their bellies at his feet. They bring gifts to please their master._

_Severus inspects the drawing carefully. His eyes move over the first lines of the incantation. The book whispers for me to speak the words before he does, to show him my power, make him submit. My fingers clench my wand. I breathe deeply when Severus finally slams it shut._

_We both need a few minutes to recover._

“Have I passed your test?” _Severus says hoarsely._

“It wasn't a test. If I had any doubt that you can close it, I'd kept it hidden. This is what I call Dark Arts. Do you really think I should show this to the students?”

_~Severus~_

“Perhaps not.” _I say, still panting slightly. One of the life's more disturbing moments._ “Show them? No. Perhaps you have made a point. A very specific point. As far as generalities go I think we are in agreement.” 

“Are you saying I'm right?”

“Let us say I'm not negating everything you said, that we concur with most of the issues discussed, that I trust you to teach the subject with occasional remarks, however, they appear, by the person who designed the curriculum.”

“Say it straight.” _Sirius is grinning. I should not use doublespeak._

“You're fine to teach so long as I have a hand in it.” 

“Thank you, Headmaster.” _Irony. I like it._

“A useful enough jaunt in the library. I will have to come back here. _” I pick my cloak off from the armchair. Kreacher must have brought it. I swing it around my shoulder._ “I'll meet you in Diagon Alley, at noon. We have books to buy and I certainly want to spend the Christmas voucher Andromeda gave me to Flourish and Blotts.” _My cloak is now completely dry but my lower legs and shoulders are still damp. I got drawn in, hadn't noticed that I was still spattered with rain. I dry my cloak quickly and hot steam rises. Sirius smiles strangely and says,_ “You'll just get wet again.”

“This time I am spending the night at The Leaky Cauldron. I can Floo. I can stay using the staff budget. After all, I am on Hogwarts business.”

_I look at Sirius and he seems no more than a tall teen, making idle comments. But this is adult Sirius, joking playfully, wagging his internal tail. He's not conventionally nice, but he has his ragged charm. Much better than being hit by friendly fire._

_Sirius leads the way to the sitting room and nods curtly to let me know it's okay with him that I go. That he should care what I think of him unnerves me, and irritates me. I nervously scatter the shimmering powder into the flames and step into the flickering green fire. I am surrounded by thoughts of the glowing book, the power of the Dark Arts, and passing Sirius' test. No matter what he says it was a test. For me at least._


	72. Severus: Awaiting the Minister's Decision

_~Severus~_

_I woke up in the Leaky Cauldron with a crick in my neck, having fallen asleep reading by the dim light of a lantern. I'll be meeting Sirius at noon. I spent half the night wondering whether Sirius picked up that slightly obscure offer to teach him Occlumency. I rub my sore neck, grimacing. I don't wish to teach him Legilimency, but it may be unavoidable. He may be just as adept as Harry at taking instruction – rash, emotional, unfocused. I think not. He can adapt very well. That we both are still alive and on speaking terms says a lot in itself._

_Zara is on a perch by the window. The highly polished oak furniture is so foreign, I hate to touch it. Noon. He should be done with Kingsley by then. My cat is probably asleep laying on his side on my chair, snoozing on the grey fabric seat, in my office. My real office, not the Headmaster's lair. Too many prying eyes, helpful or otherwise. There are festive baubles over the bedstead. No matter where I go, Christmas cheer snickers at me._

_If I had never have returned last night, gone back to 12 Grimmauld Place, I would be more myself. Why should I go against my own grain? He has no hold on me – or so I thought until I discussed the Dark Arts with him. Defence and the students and the curriculum being the excuse to see what each other think. I played the simpleton to see what he would make of normal hexes, unfriendly spells of the second or third degree. He wasn't deceived. Yes, I accused him. He knows me, damn it._

_I made my points until he brought out that hideous book of power's enchantments, the succubus of the Black family library. That I knew the book under the Dark Lord raised the hairs on the backs of my arms. I knew what I faced. Had I been unprepared, the whole thing may have turned into a very sour disaster. But that temptation held no real threat this time._

_Sirius said he trusted me. He seemed to be drawn in, but was his a struggle for the bare edges of sanity? Mine once was. The “test” made one thing clear- I have moved on to other things. I am not the same man I was mere months ago. And the Black mutt is to blame for a lot of it. I don't like every change. I seem less inquisitive, more trusting, calmer and less likely to snarl at people. I don't cut down at every opportunity. Bollocks_

_We'll see how well this fares when ... if ... I teach Sirius Occlumency. I would teach Legilimency without a doubt but for my own self-preservation. I like my mind to be intact, not have some mangy hound getting glances into my mood and thoughts. I would trust a Gryffindor to view them wrongly. And no one else has ever truly done it, invaded my mind, not the Dark Lord, not Dumbledore. No one else. The exception is Potter. And then he invaded more privacy in the Pensieve. Sometimes I wish I could do as I threatened him at Hogwarts all those years ago. A little Veritaserum wouldn't go amiss, and a list of questions that would bite him most._

_What am I going to have to deal with for the sake of friendship? Will Sirius be amenable to a trip down Knockturn Alley when we're finished in Diagon? An item or two for sale and books much nicer than **Adventures in Hexing.** I wouldn't mind my own copy of **Possession and Reanimation** which I didn't get to read properly last night, either. It makes the past less cumbersome when it's remembered with understanding. I want to know yet more about Horcruxes because then the Dark Lord seems less talented, less threatening, and certainly less admirable in his use of them. I have studied this, but Hermione Weasley won't allow the books such as the **Secrets of the Darkest Art** she nicked out of her sight. I'd love to use Kreacher to get one, but I can't do it._

_I make my way out of the room, down the shiny wooden hallway to the grubby bar and sit by myself at a table in the far left corner, watching. He won't be early. He must know to meet in the Leaky Cauldron, I told him where I'm staying. A barmaid comes to me, short and dark-haired and pretty. She must know not to serve alcohol at this hour. It's only seven am. I'm in for a long wait. I buy a Daily Prophet from the girl. I order bangers and mash with a side of fried tomatoes, and stare at the entrance._

_I can see him now, casual and offhand, having done some impossible deal with Shacklebolt with apparent ease. Sirius always makes everything look easy and simple when he's not muttering darkly and scowling. I think I prefer the scowling Sirius. The other side can be too much to take, at times._

_It will be a relief when I am back at work and have student idiocies to distract me and staff woes. To judge by the meeting, they (on the whole) welcome Sirius, and Minerva seems to accept things as they are. Slughorn will have told half of Hogwarts and all of Hogsmeade about our unusual friendship. Like Mum said: Grit your teeth and bear it, Severus._


	73. Sirius: Meeting the Minister of Magic

~Sirius~

_I've got a crammed schedule today, meeting the Minister at ten and later a shopping spree with Sev. After he left last night I've checked the book list again. All the standard volumes seem to have been updated after the war. The parents must have been delighted. I probably should get the full line of Standard Book of Spells to see what level of skills I can take for granted with the students. I'd better not take anything for granted from what Ginny told me about her 7_ _th_ _year. Their last decent teacher must have been Severus one year before the war and Neville Longbottom with his resistance group. Their only decent teachers perhaps. Amycus Carrow preferred the practical approach. Show, don't tell, to put it mildly. In '98 they brought in three retired Aurors - not as crazy as Alastor - who took turns every other week and couldn't agree on a basic syllabus. Severus kept one of them when he took over again in '99 and replaced him for this year with the one he sacked in autumn. Perhaps I should just improvise. Find out what they know and fill in what they need to know. Time will tell. Now on to the business at hand._

_It's still enough time to pay attention to the delicious breakfast Kreacher has prepared, before I floo to the Ministry._

“Are you going like this, Master?” _Kreacher looks at the plain jeans and sweatshirt with severe disapproval._

_Nanny elf or not, I'm old enough to choose my own clothes. I'm going to meet a friend and fellow Gryffindor who happens to be Minister._

“That was my intention, any objections? “

_Kreacher grumbles with his back turned. How did he survive with the Weasleys?_

_I remind myself that we've done nothing wrong. Regulus deserved a proper funeral and so do the other poor victims of Voldemort's madness. I meant it that I'm ready to pay a fine for trespassing to be used to recover the bodies. The Ministry has the means to do it and in my opinion, it is their responsibility to the dead and the living. No matter who those people were, they shouldn't be left rotting in the cave like this._

_***_

_The Atrium at the Ministry of Magic has changed a lot. All new and shiny, the horrible slogans and the ugly statues in the fountain I've been told about have disappeared. The fountain is just that, a fountain. I remember Harry said they wanted to turn it into a statue of him. It took him a lot of effort to stop such a monstrosity. I'm glad he did. He can be a stubborn idiot in many ways, but he doesn't like this ridiculous hero-worship at all. Will they ever learn to think for themselves and not to rush into the service of the most powerful wizard who accepts them?_

_I report at the reception._ “Sirius Black to see the Minister.” 

_The young witch on duty quickly hides a Witch Weekly under the desk._

“Minister Kingsley awaits you, Mr Black. Please take the lift to Level One.”

“Thank you, I know the way.” _I smile back at her and she giggles._

_There's a small crowd waiting in front of the lift. I say hello to the few I know from seeing them with Harry or Arthur. Their responses are friendly. Our little Christmas adventure is not common gossip, yet. Someone I can't place calls me Professor Black and a few eyes flick at me curiously. A wizard who I recognise as one of Harry's men frowns. The Aurors know. I don't care and leave at the next stop. I would have looked out off place had I followed Kreacher's advice. Many people wear Muggle clothes. In my mind, I hear Regulus commenting about 'Muddleborns in charge'. Not quite, Percy Weasley is the Personal Assistant to the Minister of Magic or so it says on the polished bronze plate right in front of the inkstand on his desk. I'm glad he likes it._

“You're right in time, Sirius. The Minister has just finished the morning briefing.”

_The door to Kingsley's office opens and a flock of wizards and witches pour out in lively discussions. Harry is talking to the witch who accompanied him to my house. Arthur explains something to Hermione. The three of them halt at my sight. Harry can't or won't meet my eyes and Hermione looks a bit like Kreacher did after I had done something to hurt Regulus or disgraced the family in his opinion. Arthur tries to get over the awkward moment with forced cheerfulness. He understands though he probably doesn't approve. The other people leave the outer-office and Kingsley clears his throat._

“Sirius, I'm afraid my time is short. We have a lot to discuss. Your friends will excuse us.”

_I move to follow his invitation immediately, but Harry stops me._

“Are you going to drop by at my office before you leave?”, _he says quietly._

“Of course. I won't leave without saying goodbye.” _I put my hand on his shoulder. Please understand that I love you, I plead silently._

_I walk into Kingsley's office while Harry, Arthur and Hermione leave._

“ Coffee for me and tea for Professor Black.” _Kingsley says and offers me a seat in one of the armchairs in the corner. We wait until Percy has put the tray on the small table between us and closed the door behind himself._

“Will I ever see the day when you are not stirring trouble, Black?”

_How many times have I heard him say that?_

“It's been a while since you were the Gryffindor Prefect, Shacklebolt.”

“ Yes, I'm Minister now and entering that cave was not the same as breaking into the Quidditch locker room and sprinkling itching powder on the Slytherins' robes. ”

“I'm not thirteen anymore and had a good reason to go there.”

“You always had a reason for your …. What do you call this now?”

“Family matters, “ _I suggest._

_Kingsley takes a sip of his coffee and watches me carefully, smirking._

“ Which is probably supposed to explain that announcement in the Prophet and your little Death Eater tea party at Highgate. Was that really necessary?”

“It was perfectly legal. We checked the rules. Do you think I should have buried my brother hastily at dawn near the graveyard wall like he was an embarrassment?” _I snap._

_Kingsley shakes his head. He looks tired._

“ You don't make my job easier with public statements like this. Your family has a certain reputation and many people interpreted it as a slap in the face of the Ministry. They expect me to enforce the law. We won't further investigate how you came by the information. This is between you and your godson.”

“So what are you going to do? Put me on trial for …. trespassing? Violation of graves?”

_Kingsley grins broadly._

“Maybe I should. “ _He twinkles._ “ But I've seen enough of your family lawyers during the last two years. The Boruks are really nasty chaps and old Ladkill in court.... When Boruk informed us about the funeral he hinted that they might still investigate the chances to sue the Ministry for twelve years of unlawful imprisonment.”

“They are good at their job.” _I laugh._ “ I think they are really disappointed to miss out on their share of the compensation. I take it we agree to settle the matter amicably. Do you think the Ministry would kindly allow me to pay for the expenses of the recovery operation in my brother's name? ”

“ The Ministry won't refuse any support given in good faith and the honest wish to help.”

“Just to make it clear; that goes for Severus' involvement, too!”

“Severus' involvement, yes. I still wonder how you made him sign the announcement and help you with your plans?”

_I can't help smiling._

“He was Regulus' friend. You are the first to suggest that I've made Severus do those things... which is the truth. It was my idea and my responsibility. If certain people don't stop accusing and harassing him, there will be more public statements and they'll find it hard to silence me without violating their own new laws.”

“ Stop growling, Padfoot.” _Kingsley looks more amused than angry about my threat._ “ I only wanted to hear it from you that you are not trying to get Severus into trouble. He has helped us more than the public knows, more than he wants the public to know. The boys still have to learn that goodness and kindness are not the same. Severus' tasks during the war weren't of a kind that people like to acknowledge. Now tell me about the cave. What exactly do we have to expect?”

“ I suppose Harry has already told you a bit. Caradoc volunteered to stay behind as a ghost after the Inferi curse dissolved. He wants the dead to be returned to their families and properly buried. He has powers surpassing those of a normal ghost, drawn from the magic in the cave. I'm pretty sure he can leave the cave and if he gets impatient, he will. He's very focused on fulfilling his task and we had a hard time to convince him that we couldn't possibly act at once. ”

“I can hear the slight reproach in your voice. You think we should have taken care of the situation before, don't you? After the war, our priority was with the living. I admit we forgot about the dead. Not to mention that we really weren't sure, if it was safe to enter the cave.”

“I understand that. I really do. But now that you know... it's time to act. The cave is safe as far as I can tell. If you don't trust my judgement, Severus has checked it thoroughly. However, it is not a nice place. There are hundreds of bodies in different states of decay. Some have been washed ashore, bones scattered, but I'm sure there are much more still at the bottom of the lake. Voldemort seems to have stored his victims there for a long time, long before the first war. We have always suspected him of recruiting an army of Inferi. That cave must have been the place where he kept them. I assume he even stole dead bodies from their graves to use them. The sheer number we saw is far greater than the number of people who went missing during the war. It's a terrible mess.”

“ You are trying to tell me that we can't just send a team in stealth to gather the remains. It will take some more effort, days probably and informing the Muggle authorities...?”

“Yes, that's what I expect. You said you cared for the living first. It has much to do with the living. It will give them answers, a resolution and they will have a body to bury, a place to go. It's as important to the living as it is to the dead.”

_Kingsley nods thoughtfully._

“Tell me about Caradoc. How did he die?”

“He said he got into an ambush. He hasn't given much detail. Maybe you want to talk to him in private before the recovery team starts its work?”

_I pause for a moment. It's better to address the issue now than let Caradoc repeat his accusation against Severus in front of a dozen Ministry employees. Kingsley looks at me expectantly. I suppose he can guess what I'm going to say._

“ They brought him in, tortured and killed him at a gathering of Death Eaters ... Severus was there.”

“He wasn't the one who killed him or ....,” _I add hastily._ “ Caradoc hasn't accused him of anything like that, but.... He was there, watching and he didn't try to save him. You know he was already working for the Order at the time. He couldn't have done anything. He simply couldn't! If he tried, he had been killed, too and nothing had been gained.”

_The silence which fills the room after my words, my plea, is heavy. Kingsley and Caradoc were friends, almost as close as James and I. Kingsley has spoken of Severus with respect. He doesn't want to get him into trouble. He has been an Auror. He has seen many people die, friends and colleagues. He knows that sometimes you can't do anything. He must know._

_After a few minutes which looked like ages to me, Kingsley speaks._

“ This should stay between the three, the four of us. It only breeds new resentment, if it gets out to the public. I'm not unreasonable, neither was Caradoc.” _He takes another minute to think._ “ I've got to take a look at the cave myself and I want to talk to Caradoc's ghost. I want you and Severus to come with me. What do think? Can we arrange it early next week, Monday or Tuesday? Will Caradoc wait this long? ”

“I think he will. He was a bit upset in the spur of the moment, seeing someone who he thought is a Death Eater and at my refusal to get all the corpses out immediately. He let us leave in the end, so yes, I think he will wait a few more days.”

“ All right, then I check my appointments for next week with Percy and owl you about the time.”

_I feel relief that we could settle it._

“Is there anything else? I'm meeting Severus at the Leaky Cauldron at noon. I need to buy 'schoolbooks'.“

“ There is indeed something else you should take care of. Harry said that you probably intend to keep your elf Kreacher?”

“I don't think I have a say in this. Kreacher has made his decision and I won't risk his renewed goodwill. I doubt that I have a chance to get rid of him ever again.”

“ You'd better not try. Elves can be tricky. I suggest you spare a few minutes and drop in at the house elves department and get a license today.”

“Get what? Kreacher and his ancestors before him have been in the family for centuries and now I need a Ministry license to keep him?”

_He must be kidding. Kingsley is shaking with laughter._

“Elf rights decree number 47 from July 24th 1998\. All owners of magically enslaved beings have to pass a test on their general knowledge about how to care for their slaves' needs and prove that they have read and are willing to obey the rules of the House Elf Protection Act.”

“Hermione Weasley?” _I sigh._

_Kingsley is still chuckling._

“Yes, Hermione Weasley. Count yourself lucky that the first version of the decree has been altered after two weeks. The original version required the elf itself to give testimony about its owner's decent behaviour in front of a commission. My own grandmother's elf was among those who spent several days at St Mungo's in severe shock at the insinuation that they would even think of speaking ill of their families. Hermione, at last, saw reason when one elf nearly killed itself on being questioned.”

“Muddleborns.” _I mutter._

“Pardon?”

“It's a term Regulus coined as a boy. It means that Muggle-born witches and wizards often don't get the point.”

“Don't let Hermione hear that. She meant well.”

“ I know, but she should talk to the people whose lives she is going to improve first.”

“Bread on Brooms.” _Kingsley says, smirking._ “Arthur told me.”

_I smirk, too._

“ All right, I'm going to take the test to get the license. I hope I don't need to know all of the rules by heart.”

“Don't worry, it's pretty basic. Just a formality.” _Kingsley puts his empty cup on the table._ “I think I've got to return to work.” _He points at a pile of parchments on his desk._ “Percy's daily reports.”

“ I leave you to it and do my own paperwork. Goodbye, Minister.”

“ Bye, Sirius. Please behave yourself. I don't want to read reports on you.”

_I wave at him through the open door and try to remember where the House Elf Department might be. I ask a wizard in front of the lift._

“Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Level 4.”

_I thank him and enter the lift. The corridor in the Creatures Department is long and filled with strange noises from many different offices. In an open door, I can see the rear of a Centaur who is stomping with his hoofs to put emphasis to his cause. A Goblin hurries past me, stuffing some old files in his briefcase and muttering not so nice things about wand bearers. There it is, House Elf Relocation; Elf Rights Commission; Owner's Licences._

_The witch behind the desk doesn't look up from her papers when I step in front._

“Take a seat.”

_I sit down on a chair._

“Full name and address? “

“Sirius Alphard Black, 12 Grimmauld Place, London.”

_She's scribbling it down and stops,_ “How do you spell Ellfart?”

“A-L-P-H-A-R-D.”

“Is this your first application for an owner's licence?”

“Yes.”

“The elf's name?”

“Kreacher.”

“When did you inherit the elf?”

“In 1979 on my father's death, I suppose.”

“ Mr Black, the deadline for registration of long-term enslavements has ended in January 1999. What did you think keeping the elf for so long without a licence?”

_This is beginning to amuse me._

“I've been …. err.... abroad until very recently and only heard that I am required to get a licence today.”

_She frowns._

“Your elf has been accompanying you on your travels?”

“ No, he stayed with a friend here in Britain during my absence and only returned to me four days ago.”

“ Name and address of that _friend._ I hope your friend has seen the necessity to acquire a license.”

“ I haven't asked him, but yes, I think he is a law abiding citizen. His name is Harry James Potter, Hollyhock House, Godric's Hollow.”

_The witch finally looks up. She obviously tries to figure out, whether this is true or I am taking the mickey out of her._

“You are.... Sirius Black?”

“That's what I've told you when you asked my name.”

“I'm sorry. You see people come here with all kinds of excuses and weird stories about why they couldn't take the test earlier and don't treat their house elves as they should. Those old family purebloods can't accept that times have changed and they are no better than any of us.”

_She stops abruptly. Remembering that I am an old family pureblood?_

“No need to apologize,” _I say smiling generously._ “you are just doing your duty. Carry on with your questions. I'll answer them to the best of my knowledge.”

_She hands me a booklet “Elf Protection Act, 26 th revised edition”._

“Are you familiar with the laws? Do you want to have a look at them first?”

“I think I've got the gist. I only missed out on the licence thing.”

_She smiles encouragingly and starts reading from a form._

“Define your relation to your house elf.”

“He is part of the family like his ancestors have been for centuries.”

_She raises her eyebrows in astonishment. I hold her gaze._

“Summarize the 1rst Article of the Elf Protection Act in your own words.”

“ The owner of an elf has to provide for all needs of his slave, food, drink, non-clothing, medical care and a small place for it to get rest. An elf should not be wilfully mistreated or abused, punished without reason or made to punish itself beyond reasonable measures. An elf should not be killed or abandoned to die by its owner when he becomes incapable to work due to old age, illness or injury.”

_I'm not sure how I will explain the last rule to Kreacher when the time comes. I hope it will be a long time until I have to face that decision._

_The questions go on and on, testing my knowledge of laws I think are to be taken for granted within tradition. A second page contains 'what if' questions._

“What are you going to do, if your elf burns your toast?”

_I can't help chuckling._

“That depends on the circumstances. If it really happened by accident, I will remind him that he is forbidden to punish himself without my permission. If it wasn't an accident, I will try to find out what I have done wrong.”

“Could you please answer the question seriously.”

“I am dead serious. If you knew my elf, you understood that it is not a good idea to get on his wrong side.”

_There's more of the same nonsense for about three pages until finally...._

“Would you ever consider to set your elf free?”

“That would be a severe violation of the 1rst Article.”

_The witch sorts the pages and checks my answers again. She sometimes raises her eyebrows. I can only wait for her verdict._

“Some of your answers are a bit unusual, Mr Black.”

“I'm sorry to hear that. Can you tell me where I've made mistakes.”

“Oh no, don't get me wrong. You have passed the test. Your licence will be owled to you within a few days.”

“You make me very happy. I've been a bit worried about what to tell Kreacher if I failed.”

_It's 11:40 am, not much time to see Harry, but I can't just leave. He's at his desk when I stick my head through the door._

“Hi Sirius, your meeting with Kingsley took a long time. Is everything fine?”

“Not that long, we reached an agreement. I have taken the test for the house elf owner's licence afterwards. “

“So you're really going to keep Kreacher?”

“It's more like he's going to keep me. Tell Ginny she can borrow him anytime. I won't need much of his service at Hogwarts.”

“Ginny will be delighted. She's having her teammates over Thursday next week. Girls' night.”

“A house full of Harpies.”

“I'm planning to work late. What do you think of having lunch together at Wimpy? I could do with an Eskimo Waffle.”

“Sounds great, but I'm a bit in a hurry. Severus is waiting for me at Diagon Alley. I need new books.” _Harry looks disappointed, so I quickly add._ “ What about a boys' night out on Thursday? School's only starting the following Monday. It may be my last night of freedom in a long time. Only the two of us?”

“ If you talk to Ginny and promise her not to take me to dodgy places again.”

“I always had to promise that to your mother, to bring James back untouched and in a decent state. We usually managed.”

_Harry has started to smile again. My task will be a lot easier with him than it was with James. James adored Lily, but he also loved to be the centre of attention._

“All right then, that's settled. We talk about it next week.”

“Sure, I'm looking forward to it. Now I have to run. Can't be late to a meeting with my new boss.”

_I laugh when Harry pulls a face. Back to Grimmauld place and swap my jacket for a warmer coat. The house elves nonsense messed up my already tight schedule._

_I'm ten minutes late to enter the Leaky Cauldron. Severus is sitting in a corner scowling._

“Kreacher should have given you the watch for Christmas.”

“Sorry Headmaster, I had to prove my ability to care for a house elf. Minister's order.”


	74. Severus: Diagon Alley and more

~Severus~

_Finally I see Sirius arrive, and he's not as late as I expected but I give him an annoyed look, a glare that I hope gives some indication of an employer-employee relationship that is not strained by friendship. I am barking up the wrong tree or perhaps at the wrong hound. I can be as cold as I wish and he will still like me. How irritating._

_My lip doesn't curl despite my annoyance. Care for a house elf on the Minister's orders? I raise a brow as if to see if he is having one on me. But he sees my face and skips the elf joke for now._

“ The matters with Kingsley took slightly longer than anticipated. That and Harry grabbed me for a quick visit.”

 _I sound colder still at the mention of Harry._ “ Will you tell me the basics? What is to happen with Dearborn and the departed? And when?”

“Relax. I'll tell you in order.” _Sirius tries to steer me back to my seat but I've had quite enough of sitting._

“Enough,” I snarl at him with foul intent. “ We're going to tread where we can both walk between the raindrops so as not to get wet.”  
“ Are you calling me a skinny weakling?” _Sirius says with a bark-like laugh as I lead him out into the alleyway, and tap the appropriate brick._

“ Why would you think that I would insinuate such a thing? That would be the pot calling the kettle Black.”

“Ha, ha. Your sarcasm and pithy humour are lost on the initiated.” _We step through the magical boundary, Sirius looking up at the sky and frowning at the lack of rain._

 _We barely notice where we are going and are soon in the middle of Diagon Alley, and I want to go to Eeylops Owl Emporium for Zara's treats. He hasn't had any in quite a while. But first things first._ “ Back to my question. What of Kingsley?” _I press Sirius lightly in the chest and he doesn't back away into the display of cauldrons heaped high next to a door. Bloody Gryffindors are not easily intimidated. I smile. He knows me and backs up very slightly._

_Sirius looks twice at me, and decides to start speaking again._

“ Fine, as I said before you started on raindrops, I told them you'd checked the cave, that it is safe to enter. I mentioned Caradoc's accusation against you in hope that Kingsley would understand. I said Caradoc was impatient, and Kingsley was in Gryffindor with him. Kingsley understands that you had no choice but to act as you did, and Kingsley seems to approve of you.

He'll look at the cave with us likely on Monday or Tuesday. Percy will send an owl,” _Sirius finishes._

“ I am very grateful Weasley did not land in Slytherin house on sheer ambition. What a self-serving pompous prat.”

“ Are you sure you didn't want him in Slytherin? Self-serving prat sounds like an accurate...”

_I push Sirius into a puddle that is showcasing the spitting rain. He sprays me with his foot. We're no better than small misbehaving children._

“Anything else?” _I say as I inspect the mud damage. Gryffindors have a talent with mud. I do recall Harry mudslinging most literally at Draco. They didn't splatter at the Black Christmas party. Things change, more than they should. I would die of self-loathing if I knew at sixteen who I walk with and in what manner. Sirius reminds me that I asked a question. He frowns with a hint of mischief not yet managed._

“I had to get a license to keep Kreacher. House elf owner's license. Pass a test.” _The rain is coming down harder on the cobblestones. We're nearly at out destination but we're back at this nonsense._

“Excuse me? You're pulling my leg. Or Hermione Weasley is pulling the Ministry's leg. The elves – does she really think of Elfish welfare? Just her own self-righteous...”

“She means well. She's a Muddleborn, one has to expect muddled thought.”

“So Regulus taught you something,” _I smirk as we enter Flourish and Blotts._

_Someone whistles. People stare at us, silence, and then more silence among the bookshelves and the book-laden tables. I smile, hoping Sirius thinks I cause this kind of reaction wherever I go. But this nice image gets stomped into dirt by a teenage girl squealing,_ “ Merlin's beard, it's Black with Snape! Did the Headmaster lose his mind?” _I recognise the girl, she's in my house. Her friend giggles hysterically. I do not approve of this dimwitted behaviour, but how to stop it?_

_I grab Sirius' arm in a friendly way. I would never do this but I loathe squealing. I lead him to the counter and ask for assistance with our purchases._

“That's not necessary,” _Sirius says, straightening his shoulders and letting them fall back in pride. Evident pride that he is with me? I think not. I narrow my eyes._

“ You prefer to enter the arena without a shield? Even lions will eat you for being with me just because I exist if you know what I mean.” _I recall the words of James Potter so long ago_. 

“I'd call you paranoid but considering the surroundings...” _He lets his voice trail away. I won't bite at him, he wants to be the brave Gryffindor that knows no caution? We both know better._

 _The attendant takes the list I prepared and Sirius' list and says,_ “We have the teacher's manual for each subject. This is the second year since they've been introduced. However, I have never heard about them actually being used. Bloody busybodies.” _She stops short and says,_ “Blimey. I didn't mean...” _No skin off my nose but I won't tell her so._

“Blunder on by all means. It's just yet more meaningless noise.” _I snap at her. Perhaps I have a bit of a short temper. Perhaps._

“ We don't mind hearing what you have to say at all.” _Sirius glowers at me. “_ I hear the Standard Book of Spells years one through seven have been reissued with a lot of serious revisions.”

“No doubt,” _I say with a grimace. The assistant giggles. Being a bookshop employee she understands why I smile so ironically._

“ They were rewritten with the knowledge of the Ministry, but luckily the Headmaster here took things in hand and reminded them that other Headmasters had not needed the Ministry to tell him how to run his school. A good thing, the changes. A few of the Defence teachers have been...very shady. _” She looks at me again and I wish she'd stop eyeing me. I regret being with her. I remember her being a Ravenclaw. Chang._

“Which people wrote the revisions? Were they decent?” _Sirius asks, grinning at my displeasure._

“Ask the Headmaster!” _Chang says._ “He wrote all of them.”

 _I smile tersely and turn away from Chang and look at Sirius, speaking in a barely audible tone,_ “ What else does one expect of the Half-Blood Prince? My hushed-up pen name?”

“Arrogant berk.” _But I can tell he's impressed._

“You'll note the texts don't contain Sectumsempra or Levicorpus,” _I say with a smirk._

_We wander the shelves as a pair, feeling the eyes following us._

_Sirius buys his set books for the year and buys a number of other volumes, mostly obscure spell books and a tattered old book on magical creatures. I want to shop separately but the giggling, staring or hissing customers vex me to the point I know I'll need to use the spell I created last night in the Leaky Cauldron._

“Sirius, _” I whisper at his side,_ “I'm going to cast a newly developed spell on us. It only works if there are two or more people. Put your foot on mine. This spell has no name but the Dunderhead Repelling Charm.”

 _Sirius looks a little alarmed, but hides it well._ “ We appear to others as together but disconnected, not together, which of course is the truth. It is a mind control spell that overcomes distance and works on the weak-minded in particular. We have likely no cause to worry.”

“Older magic in a new way. I like it. What's the incantation?”

 _I draw my wand and aim it at our feet. Sirius obligingly puts one foot on my shoe. I aim, and chant slightly, “_ **Celate** **Maxima, Celate Maxima.**..” _I murmur it softly watching the interest wane but not disappear. Those who had looked curious or intrigued now lose their focus, and they turn to other things. There are a lot of weak-minded people on this planet_

“Will it work at Hogwarts? _” Sirius enquires, watching the clueless customers._

“We shall have to wait and see. _” My tone is clipped._

“I hope we can use it. _” Sirius has his head to one side like an inquisitive hound._

“We can send letters _.” I say shortly. “_ I'm going to select some books for myself, excuse me. I will see you at the check-out. _” That sp_ _ell isn't the only mind control going on. I look at the books I bring to the check-out and see Sirius looking disgruntled. He's buying other books as well and damned if half of them aren't the same as mine and not schoolbooks. But I still have to pick up at least one book in Knockturn Alley._

_I have a small number of items for sale there as well, whose profit goes to the Spellman's Literacy Fund. Items confiscated from last term. A Ravenclaw had a jinxed textbook that ate one's hand. A Slytherin had several cursed Dark Detectors and a wand that had been altered until it produced nothing but hexes. A badger actually had a wasting watch, a watch that burned away the flesh of the wrist and was nearly impossible to remove._

_Every term there were more._

_One Dark Detector I have put aside as not for sale. It was affected by a complex curse – but that is it, that it **was** a complex curse. It took hours of using deviations on counter-curses known and unknown that I managed to make it workable. A miniature Foe-Glass the size of a paperback book. I'm distracted by my thought, that I told Sirius we can send letters. I obviously fear friendship._

_I don't want to just send letters, I want there to be an open partnership between us, as educators and friends. He would say I'm insecure and he'd be right, but where have I ever been provided the stability to nurture security? Sirius stands next to me with two overladen bookshop bags._

“The apothecary and Eeylops next?” _I suggest._ “And then a quick turn down Knockturn Alley?”

_In reply he puts his foot on mine. He's determined to pursue our friendship, and I did him a nasty disservice in telling him we'd exchange letters. I scowl at our feet. I cast the Dunderhead Repelling Charm again, and I smile at him. “ Better than if it were not necessary,” I say, and Sirius' eyes widen. He looks away. I haven't any idea what he's thinking. That will change when we're practising Occlumency. Has he taken the hint yet? I want to see “eye to eye” on this._

_We are quiet in Eeylops with all the hooting in the otherwise silent shop and distracted in the Apothecary. Sirius buys a few potion ingredients. As I remember he wasn't half bad in classes as a student. When he tried. Sometimes when he didn't try. The strings of fangs in his hand have a dull sheen. These particular fangs should be more luminescent and I tell Sirius so. He ends up buying some_ _ Gingko Biloba an antidepressant herb _ _and a jar of St John's Wort. Am I that depressing? He has his reasons, after years in Azkaban, and being shut away and then presumed dead._

_***_

“I hope that really was an offer to teach me Occlumency,” _Sirius says as we leave the Apothecary._ “I know that's what you meant. And Legilimency?”

“Of course not. No one treads the paths of my synapses. But if you are willing I will tread yours. And teach you to block the forays I or others make in your neural pathways.” _I smile grimly. This should be interesting, now that he has mentioned it._

_I pause._

“ Step one is to calm yourself. Empty yourself of emotion, learn discipline of your mind. I assume you know this much from your term in...”

“Azkaban, yes. And I really hope you don't mean to visit it in my mind. I may surprise you.” _Sirius looks both haunted and smug. How does he manage that?_

_I ignore him, but not really. I'm taking note of his strengths and his weaknesses._

“You need even more aptitude. It requires practice. For instance, listen to your heartbeat, it focuses you, and no need to worry, because if it stops you're dead anyway.” _It was how I started when I learned._

_Sirius chortles._

_I stop near Knockturn Alley and ask Sirius to hold a paperback in his hand. He does so, looking amused._

“Do you control your heartbeat? Do you think you have control over the book falling to the ground? _”I ask, waiting for a millisecond for him to think and then..._

_WHAP! I knock the book out of Sirius' hand and the book flops on the wet cobblestones. I duck and pick it up, slightly damp in my fingers._

“I thought not, _” I sneer. Sirius blinks, then recovers almost immediately._

“I had a suspicion...when you asked... _” Sirius says._

“Suspicion is not control...but it helps. _” I smirk._

“Why would it help with me? I'm not your antagonist, I want to learn, and I trust you. I'm not hiding anything, so you probably find it works differently on me. But you're the expert.” _Sirius shrugs._

“I am not teaching an adversary...that is true. But ask yourself how much you want me in the interior of your mind.”

“I had my mind made up the moment you offered, _” he says immediately. I wonder if he planned this response._

“We'll see, later. For now, let's just skulk down Knockturn Alley.”

“You're on, _” Sirius says, nodding his shaggy head and we slip into the grey alley where so much has been done, taught, sold, bought, concealed and conceived. No one has spotted us entering, and no one here wants to be caught looking. Not at the Dark Headmaster and his controversial staff appointment companion, who they don't really connect with me._

_The weak-minded, anyways._

_Before we go, however, I point to the robe shop, the one my mother worked part-time in, Twilfitt and Tattings. “ I hate to interrupt the fun bit, but I do need to go in here before we go into Knockturn Alley proper.”_

_So the next stop is Twilfitt and Tattings, where I always buy my robes. They're the only seamstresses who have enough sense to make robes with wand pockets that are very easily accessible. That and they know me. Sirius is feeling fabrics flow over and between his long fingers._

_He makes no comment as I am measured and pinned, and the robes will be sent to the Headmaster's office. Sirius buys some existing dress robes that are easily altered, and I note the breadth of his shoulders. He's rather small in the waist. He has narrow hips too. Same build as me, only broader in the shoulder. He takes the Prussian blue robes in their fitted casing and folds them over one arm. All those books. If he buys anything in Borgin and Burkes he'll tip over from overload._

_Down into the alley through the small knots of people and the longer deserted stretches, past shops selling artefacts from raids, artefacts from fires, artefacts that had their origin right there. Past a filthy pub – why does the Dark Arts attract such places? - and into a seedy second-hand bookshop. In the showcase is a black velvet hand holding a copy of “ Disguises for the Disgruntled.”_

_More bookshelves, more books, and though I spent every cent of the gift certificate for Andromeda, I buy two more books. The text from Sirius' library, Possession and Reanimation and another copy of The Occluded Mind, which is at home in the other obscure volumes. So few people use it. They say too soon old, too late smart. Too soon a fool, too late concealed, I think. I have been in training not to trust for at least twenty-five years. Perhaps that is its own foolishness._

_Sirius keeps to his business. Due to the nature of the establishment and our purchases, we do not look to see what each other has bought. We exit and walk up the cold grey stone with large, grimy windows and wilted hands, collarbones, and cursed and jinxed who-knows-what. I want to know what, my curiosity is piqued before we even enter Borgin and Burkes._

_There is a tinkling of a bell as we open the front door of the ancient establishment. Young Burke and elderly, stooping Borgin look around from their Prophet-gazing. Newspaper reading. I've never met the granddaughter of_ __ **_ Caractacus Burke, but I'm told she has blazing red hair and hazel eyes. Belinda is her name. But she is not a dead ringer for Lily, would that she was for her sake. She has the stature and build and all the looks of Dolores Umbridge.  _ **

_Sirius walks over to her first. They seem to know each other. Sirius makes some enquiry while I look at the display items. A deck of playing cards black as soot that gleams like opals. A sign before it reads: 'Cursed'. No doubt, but I would like to know how. Beside it are two other items. One is a pair of white kid gloves with a strong Attachment Jinx. It will bring what the seeker needs. Cost? Only three thousand Galleons. Not really dark at first thought but then... I look at the last object. A dog's skull. I wince. I dislike animal remains being used for such purchases. The sign: Hound's Head. Train your pet using a low-level set of jinxes activated by touching the skull. Price...I turn away with a grimace._

_Borgin is right beside me now. “_ Very pleasant to see you, Headmaster.”

_I bring out my box of Dark artifacts and he says,_ “For sale?”

“ _For trade, and perhaps a small profit as well.” I smile coldly at him, and his manner is slippery as Mundungus Fletcher's armpit._

“What would you wish to purchase, Headmaster? _” We start to haggle immediately. We throw a few questions each other about the items for sale. And the card deck- what did it do?_

“Nothing like Divination. I'll give you a thousand for the Dark Detectors, I remember them well. Still carrying the same curses I see, but we're down the Foe-Glass.”'

“I tamed the Foe-Glass.” _I say this very softly. Sirius isn't staring, nor is Belinda Burke. They're still caught up in conversation._

“Very gooood, _” Borgin says in his none-too-pleased tone, equally softly._ “How did you manage..”

_I strum my fingers on the counter._ “Can we get back to the card deck? _”I snap._

“Of course, Headmaster. It forces whoever touches it to produce a curse, not an Unforgivable but a curse of moderate strength and which they have no idea how to work. Perhaps you can tame this as well.”

_Shrewd man, Borgin. He knows I enjoy making things simple where there is complexity and thing complex where there is simplicity._ “ I'd say the wasting watch and the Dark Detectors cover it. The hand-eating textbook and cursed wand I'll take store credit.”

“Very well,” _he says in that slick voice. He scratches his quill on parchment and hands me a slip of parchment with the store credit and his initials. I read it and then slip it into my box, along with the deck of cards carefully wrapped in black fabric. All that is left of my Death Eater robes._

_Sirius appears beside me holding his many packages. I have many but my load is lighter. He doesn't appear to have bought anything, but Blacks are not as innocent as they seem. Ever._

“Ready to go? _” I ask._

“Yes,” _I say. We walk together, seemingly apart, back to the mouth of Diagon Alley. There is still the occasional outbreak of hissing from a Gryffindor or other who simply cannot help themselves. Slytherin house would have a lot to teach them. And so could Sirius Black._

“We're off to Hogwarts,” _I say. I find myself echoing a child of eleven speaking, telling Lily that we're really going._ “But separately, of course.”

“Of course, _” Sirius echoes and I watch him enter the short queue for the Floo Network. When I see him next, he really will be under my employ. “_ Goodbye, Sev, _” he calls before entering the emerald green flames._


	75. Sirius/Severus:  Getting ready

~Sirius~

'Off to Hogwarts', not yet. I need to pack and not just books. I'd better let Kreacher do the packing and remove anything that looks like borrowed from Phineas' wardrobe afterwards. I remember 4th year I did the packing all on my own and my trunk was filled with Quidditch gear, chocolate frogs and Zonko products. Over the first week, three owls a day arrived with unimportant things like socks, pants, handkerchiefs and even more chocolate. How could I be expected to think of such trivial necessities? 

Peter got sick from all the chocolate and Remus accused me of having done it on purpose. Perhaps, though I haven't forced him to eat it all at once. James and I were only interested in the cards and Peter eagerly volunteered to take care of the frogs. Remus still had most of his share untouched on the first Hogsmeade weekend. I got 6 Salazar Slytherins and James insinuated that my mother knew a spell to identify the wizards on the cards and saw to it that I got the right ones. I doubt it because Regulus was delighted when I gave him the cards.

Regulus! My 4Th year was his first on the team. I didn't even see him play in his first match. Strange coincidence that I never had the chance to play against him. That year it was the detention I took in James' place, the next I was banned from the remaining matches because of the prank I played on Severus. 6Th year I spent the Gryffindor - Slytherin match in the hospital wing and 7th year James wanted to give a younger seeker a chance, fine with me of course. It happened to be for that one match.

“ Master Sirius, has the headmaster said anything about your rooms?”

My rooms? Hogwarts accommodations are equipped with all things necessary. I shake my head.

Kreacher frowns at my thoughtlessness.

“ Kreacher will see to it that everything is prepared and comfortable. Kreacher looks after his master. Kreacher knows what you need.”

I surrender to his expertise and determination. With a pop, he's gone. The mental image of him discussing curtain fabric and wallpaper patterns with poor Severus runs through my mind. 

I search the pantry for something edible. Merlin bless that elf! He left a plate with sandwiches. 

I send it to the drawing room and follow with the pile of new schoolbooks under my arm.

 

~Severus~

I am just getting settled and my packages put away when the unmistakable loud CRACK of a house-elf announces Kreacher's arrival in my dungeon office. He's muttering to himself, as strange as ever. “ Still doesn't know what it means to be a Black,” Kreacher mutters. “ Doesn't know the respect due to his station. The pristine order, the exuberant, yet still the serenity...”

“ I wasn't aware you wrote poetry, Kreacher,” I say with a snap as loud as his CRACK but without the volume. 

“ Kreacher has come to prepare Master's rooms,” Kreacher says. He jumped a mile when I address him. He just hugged me days ago and wept on my feet. Irksome little...but he's an elf. 

“ Do you know where the rooms are?” I snap again, leaning down over him.

“Yes, Master Severus. I needed to discuss the needs of my master. In the bath chamber, certain essential oils...”

“ I am not aware that I showed the slightest interest in discussing it. Tell Sirius from me that he disgusts me, sending a house-elf to please his pampered pureblood. Really, Slughorn is the only staff member I thought capable of such arrogance.  
I feel like ranting but I hate it when elves cringe. Surely Phineas Nigellus hadn't been the same?

“ Kreacher will do it despite Master, for Master's sake, Master Sirius wanted nothing to do with it.”

“ Even so, do an excellent job, Kreacher. So excellent that all your ancestors would give you praise.” I sneer but it's still an order from the Master's best friend.

“Yes, Master, sir.”  
I can imagine some of the pleasant additions and I think he just may want to kill me.


	76. Sirius: Off to Hogwarts

_~Sirius~_

_Kreacher has been in and out of the house since Thursday. I've heard him shifting furniture and rummaging through the cupboards. I don't even dare to ask. There hasn't been a howler from the headmaster, so I hope the elf hasn't gone completely over the top with his ideas what I will need at Hogwarts._

_I've won the fight over my wardrobe. I need some jeans and other Muggle stuff. When I reminded him that I still don't appreciate snakes in my bedroom, he looked offended and started muttering under his breath._

_Yesterday I went to Andromeda's place. Kreacher has been too busy to make me lunch anyway. She has been very interested in hearing the outcome of my meeting with Kingsley. I didn't tell her every detail. I know she would have understood, but Kingsley is right three people and a ghost are more than enough to know. It was an enjoyable afternoon. Teddy is much like his father. I hope to see him grow up to be the man Remus could have been without the curse. He already shows signs that he has inherited Dora's rare gift. Andromeda has to be on guard permanently, but she's been through it before and knows how to handle the situation. She wants him to get in contact with Muggle children as soon as possible, but it's difficult when his hair suddenly changes colour or other strange things happen. She often visits Fleur at Shell Cottage to let him play with Victoire._

_I've decided to take my bike to Hogwarts. I could have sent it by magic which would have been reasonable in this weather, but I don't want to be reasonable about that. A bit of rain for the most part of the journey won't do me any harm. I'll fly as soon as I've reached the less populated regions._

_There's one issue that I've given a lot of thought since I began to prepare. Regulus' portrait, of course, he's coming with me, but I wish to really take him for the ride. I've not forgotten that I broke the promise about the first ride on my motorbike. I took James, not Reggie. I doubt he'd come, but I should have asked. Perhaps he doesn't remember. He was just about five when I made the promise._

_How to take a piece of parchment on a ride on a motorbike in rain and snow? Protective spells, Impervius, but I can't possibly pin it on the back of my jacket._

“Do you mind, if I shrink you to the size of a postcard, Reggie? Just for the journey?”

“What for? Just furl me and put me into your bag. “ _He watches the biker gear I'm already wearing in wonder. Then he seems to understand._ “You've gotten one of those bike things, two-wheeled Muggle vehicle like a broom, but unable to fly. Does yours fly?”

_I grin in a way Severus would surely call arrogant._ “Of course, it flies. I've said I'll make it fly.”

“Since when....? Have you …?” _He doesn't need to spell it out. I knew he remembers._

“The summer after you were drawn. No, I didn't keep my promise. How could I? Would you've come, if I called for you in front of this house I couldn't enter anymore? Would you've been at home at all or already with....”

_Regulus bites his lips. He thinks about his answer. His reply is barely audible._

“I don't know. You could have tried....”

“Yes, I should have tried. …..... Are you coming now?”

“Of course! Though I don't believe it's as much fun as riding a broom.”

“Judge for yourself, after you've seen it. It's even more fun if you don't get sick.”

“I never get sick. I'm a better flier than you are. “

“If you say so.... Come on, I've got to shrink you and put the protection spells on your canvas.”

_I put him in the plastic front of my breast pocket. Clever Muggle invention, I think they use it for tickets and nameplates._

_We take the Muggle roads north. I remember Kingsley's warning about not wanting to read reports on me. My baby can go pretty high above the clouds, but the weather is even worse up there._

_At Wigan I leave the M6. From now on it doesn't matter too much, if we are seen. Who'd believe a single farmer who claims to have seen a flying motorbike? I even take off the stupid helmet. Now I can hear Reggie squeal for joy when we soar through the clouds. The rain splashing in our faces. I was only teasing when I said he could get sick. I knew he would love it. After a while, the rain turns into snow. I go slower. The soft flakes float around us. The ground below is white. Only a few roads are cleared. I can vaguely recognise the track of the Hogwarts Express._

“You were right! This is fun!” _,Regulus shouts._ “Only a bit loud! Can you go lower? I want to see more of the grounds.”

_I go down, following the tracks. They are covered with snow. The next train will go in a week. There aren't any Muggles around this time of year. Far away I can see the peaks of the mountains surrounding Hogwarts. It will still take us an hour or two to get there._

_There's a snow drift on the track._

“Hold on, Reggie!”

_We race through it one foot above the ground. The snow swirls all around us. Regulus screams. I slow down and hovering on the spot I brush the flakes off. My old girl is still up to a bit of fun._

“That was bloody brilliant! I wish I could try this on a broomstick.”

“We'll look for a snowy landscape at Hogwarts and somewhere we should find a painted racing broom.”

_I don't do any more stunts until we reach the first houses of Hogsmeade. I drive down the main road at moderate speed. People stick their heads out of windows and doors to see the source of the unusual noise. The door of The Three Broomsticks opens. Rosmerta runs out waving her hands. I stop in front of her._

“Sirius Black! About time you show your face. I had to read about your return in the papers.”

“Don't tell me you believed one single word.”

_She winks and laughs._

“Now get off that mechanical monster and give us a hug.”

_I lift her up and swirl her around. Regulus protests as she throws her arms around my neck and gives me a kiss on the cheek._

“What's that, Sirius?”

“My little brother Regulus. Remember him?” _I point at his portrait in my pocket._

“Of course I remember young Regulus Black. Always a perfect gentleman unlike his brother.”

_Rosmerta puts one finger to her lips and sends a kiss to the portrait. Regulus blushes._

“Hey careful! The boy is just fifteen.”

_She giggles and Regulus turns a deeper shade of pink._

“Now Sirius, what brings you here? I don't dare to hope that you just drop by to say hello to your favourite landlady.”

“I'm afraid not. I'm on my way to the castle. Starting a new job.”

“Merlin! You are the new Defence teacher? The headmaster must be desperate.”

“He will be if I don't get on my way. I want to be there before dusk.”

“I expect you to be back soon. You've got to tell me all about your return. Or I have to believe the papers.”

“Don't you dare! I'll see you as soon as the headmaster lets me off the leash.”

“Since when do you need for the headmaster's permission to come and see me?”

“I'd better with the current one.”

_The road from Hogsmeade to the castle is magically kept free of snow and ice. The ride is quite pleasant. It's a bit like coming home. On the grounds near the castle, a group of students is having a snowball fight. I have to swerve to avoid being hit. The students turn their heads. I dismount at the great oak doors. More students gather trying to get a look at my baby and there is an old acquaintance of mine. Shooing the kids out of the way Filch storms out and plants himself in front of me._

“Black!” _, he barks._

“Mr. Filch.” _I say trying to be polite. I had almost forgotten about him still working at Hogwarts. It is reassuring that one personal enmity hasn't changed. He gasps for breath._

“What does this mean? What are you doing with this.... on the school grounds?”

“I was hoping that you could show me a dry place to keep my girl safe, Filch.”

“You....”

_Another voice much more cheerful and friendly interrupts him._

“Argus, I think we can put Professor Black's motorbike in the back of the carriage shed.” _Filch looks like he's going to explode as Minerva calls me Professor._ “Sirius, we've been expecting you via the Floo network. Anyway, it's good to see you.”

_She has taken my hand in greeting. I raise hers to my lips._ “Good to see you too, Minerva. Still my guardian protecting me from the wrath of the caretaker?”  _I add in a lower voice._

“I hope there's no need to protect you from anyone nowadays. Just behave yourself, Sirius Black. Or you'll feel my wrath.”

“I wouldn't risk that.” _I suddenly have an idea._ “May I invite my favourite teacher and former Head of House to a round on my bike?”

“Oh Sirius, no, that's impossible. You're crazy. I can't....no....” _, she protests, but I know her. I can see the gleam in her eyes. She can't possibly resist the temptation to fly. I ignore her protest and place her on the saddle._

“Put your arms around my waist.”

_She does, giggling like a young girl and we rise slowly off the ground, hover a bit over the students' heads and soar up to circle Gryffindor tower. We fly a round over the roofs of the rebuilt castle and land smoothly at the entrance again. I help her off and she starts sorting her slightly ruffled skirts._ “Sirius, you are impossible,”  _but she laughs._

_A dark figure stands on top of the entrance stairs. Severus' face is unreadable as ever. I grab the saddle bags and hand my bike to Filch who pushes her towards the stables, swearing under his breath. I walk up the stairs trying to look serious._

“Headmaster.” _I greet him inclining my head._

“My office, now!” _Severus turns on his heels and leaves me no choice than to follow him like an unruly student awaiting his punishment. I have a certain routine in doing that I can't deny. Before the doors close behind us I turn my head and twinkle at Minerva._


	77. Severus/Sirius: Memories in red and gold

_~Severus~_

_Sirius is strutting behind me like a minor god. Or he thinks he's Icarus perhaps, flying with his pureblood prat wings. I have to correct him of that impression. If he thinks he has ever been in worse trouble with me since letter number one, he is mistaken._

“Black!” _I snarl at him without bothering to look at him, addressing his left shoulder. I hope he knows he is unworthy of my attention. This is Sirius Black, should I expect better?_ “Perhaps we should return outside and tell Filch to park that contraption under the gutter or open drain? Along with what sense I thought you had? Well? What in Salazar's name were you thinking? You may have avoided the Muggles, unlike little Potter, but you thought you'd play irresponsible godfather and fly around Hogwarts? You needed to make a grand entrance like Harry once did?”

_I'm pressing him. I don't want him to fight me, I want him to listen for one blessed moment in his life._

_There is excited, cheery talk around us, and sniggering. I could kill him. Students and faculty murmur the fantastic story to one another and leave us room to walk only so that they have a better vantage point from which to stare at us._

_My eyes find Regulus' portrait. Sirius has a half-smile on his lips, even still._

“Explain,” _I ask Regulus._ “Your brother is obviously incapable of simple reason.” 

_Regulus winces._ “I think Sirius wanted to show off his bike Gryffindor style, is all. No need to add to that. We both know Gryffindors are morons.”

“Do you know mythology, Regulus? I think Sirius here is Icarus. Icarus had waxen wings built by his father. His father told him to fly at low elevations because the wax could be melted by the sun. But noooo, Icarus became exhilarated by flight. Ignoring his father's warning, he flew higher and higher. The sun melted the wax holding his wings together, and the boy fell into the water and drowned.”

_I glare at Sirius. He looks unnerved, though he has seen me glare at him many times._

“It was a violation of my trust for you to melt your wings, Sirius. A lie that you would do what I asked of you, that you would try hard to win my confidence. _” I snarl and fume_.

“A violation of your trust? You had some?” _Sirius looks at me oddly. I could kill myself for lack of forethought in the wording in that sentence._ “Come on...”

“I'm coming nowhere. I should tell you and your accursed elf to get out of my sight and off the grounds of my school. But I have no other person signed for the Defence post.” _My voice is getting quieter as Sirius follows me down the stone steps to my rooms._

“I want to hex you for lack of real loyalty. You should know what position it puts me in to have a member of staff, a friend no less, behaving like an utter imbecile.” _The throng of Sirius-followers – and I can tell that there will be many – are no longer following. No sensible student wishes to disturb me. The adults should think likewise. I should let Minerva know what I think of her playing along._

_Sirius barely defends himself, first time on a bike with Regulus, got a bit carried away. What's the big deal?_

_We reach my office door, and I use a form of Alohomora unknown to students and staff alike. And I use it non-verbally, for Sirius will have access to my rooms only when he learns that friendship, loyalty, and trust are not to be meddled with. Even a Gryffindor can understand that. I turn as the door opens._

“Severus, I wish... I admit I'm a brat... sorry...”  
_I slip inside and spit,_ “Too late for that. If you should need me, please feel free to stay away.” _And I slam the door in his face._

_~Sirius~_

_I stare at the closed door, the door of his old office, not the Headmaster's office. What does that bloody idiot think? I haven't endangered the Statute of Secrecy! My bike is legal! Don't know how Arthur and Kingsley did that, but it is._

_If he just let me explain. It's not all that simple. All right I enjoyed it, but that's not all._

“You've put your foot right in it.” _Regulus states needlessly._

“Oh thanks, I wouldn't have noticed without you. Are you going to help me out? I suppose he will listen to you.”

_I've taken him out of my pocket to face him while we discuss the matter._

“If I push you under the door, will you remind him that my reputation with the public is nearly as bad as his? There's more than one wizard who still believes that I've been a Death Eater and the Ministry hasn't made a mistake when they locked me up. Now they've seen that I am a reckless Gryffindor and on good terms with Minerva McGonagall. They will tell their parents. That will make life a lot easier for both of us.”

“Who are you trying to fool? You wanted to go by bike and you enjoyed the flight with Professor McGonagall.”

“And you didn't? C'mon, you know what I mean. I haven't planned the flight. It was just a spontaneous idea and it worked. Will you try to explain it to Sev and tell him I'm sorry that I haven't warned him?”

“I'll try. There's no guarantee with Severus. It was just the thing we hated about you and Potter, making a show of everything and getting away with it. You always got away with everything.”

“We didn't! I think we still hold the all-time record with detentions and that's saying something after seven Weasleys.”

“That's nothing to be proud of.”

“Spoil sport! You would have loved to do the same.”

“We wouldn't. We preferred not to get caught. If we'd done some of the things you did, we'd have been expelled.”

“That depends on the headmaster. Tell him I won't fly my bike again without his permission. He can have the keys. Next time I'll take him for a round over the castle.”

“I certainly won't tell him that.”

“Tell him what you want, but please make him open that door and talk to me again, will you? Please, Reggie.”

“You owe me. Keep that in mind.”

“I know. I always did, didn't I?”

_I shove the picture under the door. I can hear them whisper, Reggie trying to explain things and pleading my case and Sev growling._

_~Severus~_

_I can stand the bike trip, I agree with Regulus that I can even stand the little jaunt with Minerva as I listened to the brothers speaking outside the door. I wonder if Sirius wanted to be overheard, he was speaking so loudly and clearly._

_It does make a good impression, him being friends with Minerva and not a real Dark Arts teacher who might teach Defence on the side. Not the Dark hound of Azkaban. Reg says so the minute he passes under the door._

_But Sirius could have warned me. He does everything by the seat of his pants. I, at least, fly by the seat of my pants when I have a specific destination in mind. He's infuriating._

_Regulus sits in my palm. The portrait is so small, it seems horrible to rage against a defenceless thing. And this is Regulus my old friend, and a fellow Slytherin. He's always had more going on in his head than the intellectual nonsense Sirius and I have. What did he say?_

“Severus, he's your friend, and when friends make mistakes you teach them the right way and back them up against their enemies. If you come out as Headmaster showing all this derision, it will tarnish your reputation as much as his.”

_I glare at the tube-worms and the ocelot spleens. No matter how much I'd like to hex Sirius, I see some truth in that argument._ “I don't wish to divide the staff. _” I mutter these words to a flask of formaldehyde. Then I look at Reg, in my palm._ “We will disagree privately about the manner of his arrival.”  _I pause before continuing._

“Anything Sirius accomplished, he did so by mistake. Except sending the first letter.” _I'm murmuring low, speaking so that no prying ears, Extendible or not, can hear me, just Regulus._ “That action I don't wish reversed. That's why I'm so angry. He betrayed me.”

“Not in his mind,” _Regulus says.”_ Your trust means everything to him.” _He shrugs his narrow sketched shoulders. “_ He's a nutter but he's my brother and I ask you to give him a little free space. He'll be tortured enough by his thoughts of your anger for you to add extra helpings.”

“Argh!” _I say vehemently, “_ Sweet Salazar, why does he never think ahead?”  


“He does. You know it. He just goes off kilter sometimes. With you, it's rationalising, sarcasm and sneering. With him, it's all in good fun, edginess and devotion.”

“I thought you didn't spout nonsense.” _I smirk at the portrait._

“I'm a teenager! I have to spout nonsense! Come out into the hall. You have to see what Kreacher has done to Sirius' quarters. Kreacher's been telling me. A Gryffindor four poster, piled high with extra crimson sheets, silk pillow cases with room for three, there's even a Muggle picture of a motorbike. He really wants to surprise him. Of course, there are about fifty types of lotions and balms for corns and cracked heels that survived Azkaban. And the robes... the best robes that never go out of fashion, simple and of supple, elegant material. There are carpets and area rugs, an Axminster, a lifetime supply of Floo powder in an ornate Chinese box. Then there are the ones meant to show Sirius that he comes from the Black Family...”

“The last I can witness.” _I suppress a smile._

“Come on, Sev. Let bygones be bygones. You two have let go of so much crap I would hate to see you fail over something as trivial as this. Come on, won't you see the Black family crest on the Gryffindor headboard?”

_I try to keep frowning but find it very hard. Sirius is lucky to have Regulus. The picture I made. If Sirius doesn't kill me the irony will.  
_ “Very well.” _I open the door, and Sirius stands on the other side, so near to the door he must have heard some of the conversation._

“Ask for Kreacher to give us a tour of your quarters, Professor Black.” _I say, disarming him with politeness. “_ We have more to discuss than the trivial exploits of your arrival,” _I add. I hand Regulus back to him. Regulus winks._

_~Sirius~_

“Thank you,” _I whisper to the portrait as I put it back to my pocket._

_Instinctively I avoid eye contact with Severus until I remember that with humans this means trying to hide something and not respect and peaceful intentions. Reason is what is called for._

“I'm sorry I haven't informed you about my travelling arrangements, Headmaster. It's not like I've just been relying on my luck to get here unseen. We only took to the air north of Manchester. My bike is legal. I have a Ministry permit to fly it and a valid Muggle driving license.“

“Always good to have connections with the Ministry, isn't it?” _Sometimes it's hard to tell whether his sarcasm is just sarcasm or he's really angry. I drop the topic._

“My quarters then? I hope Kreacher hasn't given you too much trouble. He was unstoppable. I thought I'd better let him have his way and undo the worst later.”

“He's outdone himself as far as I know. Your rooms are certainly worthy of the last of the Blacks.”

_Severus smirks at my look of despair. In my mind, I see masses of green velvet and snake-shaped handles at every door and drawer._

_I follow Severus through the ever-changing staircases of Hogwarts. I'm sure the Defence classroom wasn't on the 7 th floor when we were students. _

“Kreacher?” _I knock at the door._

_Kreacher opens immediately. Whatever he has accomplished it has made him happy. I intend to yield to the headmaster, but he smirks again and shakes his head._

“Your rooms, you should have the first look.” 

_His politeness and the suddenly improved mood is not a good sign. I enter hesitantly and sigh in relief. The office is rather decent, a bit on the red side. There's plenty space for books and a nice desk to work at. He has really outdone himself with the poster of the bike, though I feel a little bit too old for the bikini girl._

_I smile at Kreacher who takes my hand to lead me to the bedroom._

_It is red! Crimson red! Curtains, bed linen, everything!The family crest on the headboard looks a bit out of place. Kreacher looks at me expectantly. He really tried to please me._

“Padfoot will love the carpets and the bed. Kreacher, it's really nice. Thank you very much.” 

_Stop grinning, Sev. I know this room is fit for – it starts with the same letters, but it's not professor._

“Nice setting to turn a trick.”

“Severus, please.”

_Kreacher luckily doesn't get the point; Regulus giggles, though. I guess it's the right moment to take him out of here._

_Unfortunately the tour is not over, yet. Bathroom? Can it get worse? It can. He must have gotten his inspiration from the prefects' bathroom. James and Remus shared the password with me. The friendly mosaic of a merman waves at me from the wall over the tub. There's a shelf with potions or lotions and soaps. Severus is chuckling. He has taken up one bottle._

“Your elf is very thoughtful. Azidirachta Indica.”

“Bless you.”

“Indian lilac, neem? Ever heard of it?”

_I take the bottle out of his hand. Neem shampoo?_

“Kreacher! I haven't had fleas for years!”

_Kreacher smiles sheepishly. I can't be really angry with him. He has managed to cheer Severus up._

_We can return to the study at last. I praise Kreacher again for his efforts. Severus keeps a straight face. He has understood that I don't want to hurt the elf's feelings. This is what he thinks Gryffindors like. Talking about unfortunate prejudice._

“Let's find a place for Regulus.”

_I take the postcard of my pocket and undo the Shrinking Charm. Regulus stretches his joints._

“I'd like a nice place in your study. I don't want to disturb you when I come home at night.”

_I look at the headmaster for support. He shrugs._

“He's a portrait not a boy.”

_I give up. To me, he is my brother frozen in time at the age of fifteen, but in fact, he is a twenty-four-year-old portrait of a fifteen-year-old boy who died twenty-one years ago. Does that make him of age somehow? Arithmancy has never been my favourite subject._

_I have a good look around the office._

“There's a perfect spot over the fireplace, but...”

_Kreacher jumps up and rips the picture of the bike off the wall and with it that ridiculous half-naked girl. Hasn't it occurred to anyone that even at sixteen I wanted the bikes on my wall and the girls were only a bonus to upset my mother? It's nearly impossible to get a bike without the girl._

“Best place for Master Regulus! Nice and warm and he can see everything.” _Kreacher squeals. I'm glad we agree and put Regulus on the wall._

“You wanted to talk, Severus? Would you accept my hospitality for now?”

_I point at the two armchairs in front of the fire. Severus follows my invitation and sits down._

“One more thing. Kreacher, I have a task for you. Mistress Ginny expects guests on Thursday night, the girls from her Quidditch team. She hopes you can help her with the preparations. Why don't you go to Godric's Hollow and discuss it with her?”

_Kreacher nods with his eyes gleaming and Disapparates on the spot. I drop on the other chair and sigh._

“I need to keep him busy before he gets even more creative. Severus, about Thursday... Harry would rather avoid a house full of Harpies. We'd like to spend a few hours in town, just the two of us together. Is this all right with you? I'll take the floo of course.”

_~Severus~_

“Of course, fine by me,” _I echo with a hint of a sneer. Sirius looks at me and shakes his head._ “Sev...”

“Run off to Potter if you have to, only you know where your loyalties lie,” _I snarl softly, giving him a hard look._

_He stares and then rolls his eyes at the crimson ceiling embedded with gold flakes. I glance up too, then fix my stare on Sirius. One minute he's irresponsible, I try to get over it. Then he ducks out to run to Harry. If he speaks the words “get over it” I will express my extreme displeasure._

“Can't you of all people believe that more than one allegiance is possible? Family, friends, it used to be the Order, you too, and you being my friend after our history? I don't question your loyalty. And Harry is my godchild. Harry. Wake up, Severus.”  
_Close enough. I raise an eyebrow full of irony and say,_ “Just one little thing. I wanted to see if you have a predisposition toward Occlumency.”

 _Sirius gives me a challenging look. He shrugs and stands, withdrawing his wand._ “I have a good idea of how it works,” _Sirius says. He's silhouetted by the dancing red flames. I think of red hair and the Dark Lord's eyes and my temper doesn't improve._  
“Do you really?” _My wand is in my hand quicker than a snitch in Potter's. I goad myself if he won't do it, just to add some interest to the ... informal training._

 _His wand and mine rise at the same moment. He waits. He knows._ “I will attempt to breach your defences using Legilimency. Empty your mind, make it calm, make it blank. You may block me, using any means but a curse.”

_I can see the barking dog in his grey eyes, now that I'm used to the light. It's a chase and toy with him, isn't it? A shadow crosses his face. Is this real, my so-loyal mutt? It is._

“Three, two, one - Legilimens!” _I hiss and I encounter more immediate resistance than any other. But he lets me in, I bowl over his inner dog. I see flashes...._

_A small boy being read to in bed by a house-elf, Potter and Sirius vanishing dead snakes all over what must be his dormitory, even eels in the toilet. Regulus and Sirius chasing a snitch. The same boys running hand in hand through Muggle streets. A stag and Padfoot chasing along either side of a werewolf...nothing damaging..._

_Suddenly I am myself and he has used a Hurling Hex to knock me back, and for a moment, I'm seeing my memories, and I'm curious how far he can get in. My curiosity cost me._

_I'm eight, fishing through a bin for scraps of food to take home. A Muggle woman comes out of the pub and silently hands me fish and chips....I'm leaping off a swing at the same time as Lily. She floats up and lands lightly. I float higher. I land in a sprawl beside her, ankle twisted. She laughs and...._  
I block Sirius. I can see him staring at me with his hand raised. “Expelliarmus!” _I use it silently. Sirius has lost his wand._ “Not bad for the first attempt.” _It's hard to stay angry with him. As long as he doesn't ask about Lily's laugh. She was not herself. Or at least didn't live up to my expectations of her. We're both still standing upright, both panting. I steady myself first._  
“This is a baseline to operate from. The harder you resist, the more I see. The calmer the mind, the better.” _I straighten my robes_. “I allowed you easy access. You kept yourself quite controlled but I can easily use your reckless challenge-hungry nature against you.” 

“I know you're mad at me again,” _Sirius says, no longer panting so hard. Quick recovery for a first attempt. I'm not as mad but..._

“I am not full of puppy snuggles.” _I state it like any other statement. This makes Sirius snort and laugh, and it looks like he can't stop._

_~Sirius~_

_I can't help laughing. Puppy snuggles, I'm thinking of the furry, fringed crotched cushion Lily made. Padfoot spread it all over the living room, feathers and threads and all. Padfoot looked like the cushion himself afterwards and Lily screamed like hell until James had sorted it out. Severus raises his wand again for another attempt._

_I have to get James out of my mind. And Lily! All this may destroy the fragile trust we have built up in the last two weeks. There are memories I don't want to share, only a few and mostly because I don't want to remember myself. There are also plenty of memories he won't like to find, good memories for my part, bad for him. I think of James, ruffling his hair, playing with a snitch, about to hex.... He doesn't want me to see 'his' Lily. I doubt he wants to see mine, James' Lily._

_Empty your mind, easier said than done. The moment I try to hide a memory by not thinking of it, I do think it. I see James' head popping out of a compartment door. He stretches his hand out in greeting and I take it. James' arm around my shoulders. James laughing, pointing at....Snivellus. Lily telling us off, turning her back to smile. She smiled a lot watching James making a fool of himself to impress her. She smiled when he raised the Quidditch Cup. She even smiled when she picked the last bits of wool and feathers out of Padfoot's fur. She didn't smile when I cut off her pigtails with Zonko scissors._

_Lily pleading with me while I shake my head. Lily with tears in her eyes. An old spell book...._

“ _...._ _ _the secret which is subject of the Fidelius Charm will not be buried with the Secret Keeper..... will become Secret Keeper in his own right, after the death of the original Secret Keeper.” …. “To protect the secret eternally ….decide to transfer it into the living soul of another wizard. …. The original Secret Keeper can die in peace knowing that the secret will remain untouched by his death.”__

_~Severus~_

_I pull out of Sirius' mind, violently. I break the connection with all my force of will. He does not get the opportunity to see into my mind because this is not a trivial nonsense game going on here. I know he tried not to think of her – the hidden always appears first._

_So that is how Lily was in his books._

_And James. I never wanted Potter dead until today. He changed my Lily into a foul..and Sirius!_

_This is the man I want teaching here? To do what, snipe at the most obvious target? Children can be very cruel. Witness Ronald Weasley and the damned godchild hoping I was sick or sacked or dead... and teenagers as well. They will always go for the open provocation whether it's intentional or not.  
I don't care that Sirius is on his back on the floor. I feel like spitting...hexing...cursing. But I am not yet as cruel as a child. I'll let him get to his feet before I start on him. I reach out a hand and Sirius reaches toward it, but I swiftly pull my hand away._

_I'm incredibly socially mature._

_The images pierce me like white-hot daggers. Lily of the treacherous smile, the smile I thought was so mysterious has meaning and images of her eyes, of Padfoot – she loved that hangdog hound better than she did me! The tenderness of her hands removing feathers and wool._

_Sirius is on his feet._ “Happy, Black? Your putrid mind tells no lies, except perhaps to itself.” _I've got a stitch in my side from restraining my body from shaking and my wand arm striking._ “You offered me too much opportunity to see if you can block me without resisting me! To perhaps set up a false image. And don't try to tell me you lied,” _my voice is getting very waspish._

_Sirius looks angry. He'll send me down my end of the castle, down seven floors and more beneath. Do I care?“That's your truth.”_

_A pause._

“ _Did Lily ever mention me as an adult?” The question I wanted to ask since the beginning of our correspondence eats me like corrosive battery acid or perhaps Bubotuber pus._

_Sirius sighs. “You have to understand, Lily was in love with James. She never talked about anyone or anything but him and their little world of planets with Harry as the Sun. She spoke about you in her letters. Never in front of James. The letters are lost. I'm sorry.”_

_This is so inadequate compared to what I feel, have felt, almost my entire lifespan. Everything for her. Nothing else mattered, but her and her unfortunate child. And he only mattered in saving what she loved most. He's grown. He and Sirius will be meeting on Thursday. Sirius slaps me on the back a little harder than necessary. We're both irate._

“I don't mind your visiting Harry. Just keep clear of me and spare me the details.” This is far out in left field for Sirius, who can't possibly know where my mind is tumbling. But-

“I'll take care of Harry from here, shall I? Give you some peace. Before you try any more Legilimency, I think we should split for the time being. Too much, too raw, we both need time to think.” _  
I jerk my head to indicate assent while staring at my shoes. I can tell my eyes have the haunted cold tunnel look the minute I raise my head and our eyes meet. He is equally haunted, likely more than I. My mind is formulating cutting remarks but I rethink them._

“You show some small aptitude. On the first attempt. Tonight, deep breathing, centre yourself and empty your mind, not that it holds a lot.” I have to add that, I was born to snark. 

_I stand and Sirius walks me to the door._ “If you wish I can alter the house colours,” _I add, smirking.  
_ “Kreacher...”  _He foresees danger._

“Can enjoy changing it back when he returns. I have a certain skill at interior design.”

_Every scarlet inch turns emerald green, silver serpents streak the ceiling instead of gold leaf and I have a nasty grin. It's only the office, but still. “Enjoy yourself, Professor.” How many times in one day can I snap a door behind me, leaving behind a no doubt consternated Black?_


	78. Severus/Sirius: Insights

_~Sirius~_

_Regulus has left his canvas to explore the castle. What did I expect from a teenager? I'm alone in a sea of green. All right, let's make this room inhabitable for a sane person. Kreacher won't be back anytime soon. Away with silver and gold, serpents and lions! Sigh! That's better. I keep the green, changing it to a light mint, white ceiling. Now that's a place to think clearly. A bit of grey here and there. Grey, not silver! I grab my bags and unpack the books Kreacher forgot._

_Open the window. The view over the grounds is still familiar. Hogwarts once meant freedom to me. Does it still?_

_Why is Severus so interested that I learn Occlumency? I will tell him what he asks for. I'll try. Lily. I wish I could tell him what she said. I've tried in my letter. She told us off when we bullied him. She always told us off about any of our pranks. I thought her an annoying nag for the most part of six years. If I'd been asked to say anything positive about Lily Evans before 6 th year, it had been she's pretty and quite clever and she's very kind to Remus. When I try to envision her during our first years, I see her surrounded by her friends, talking to Remus, screaming at James and me. I hardly remember seeing her with Sev outside class. I knew she was friends with him, but not because she acted like it. Regulus told me about it. Regulus talked a good deal more about Sev than Lily. ' He's not as bad as you think' she said to me when she told me how to conjure real roses end of 2nd year. I can't tell him that, can I? Maybe he's right I should learn to close my mind. I think I know how, not the way he suggests. He can't fool me; just closing is not what he did with Voldemort. He must have done what I did to keep the Dementors at bay, give them things they can't feed on, memories they can't use against you._

_***_

_Severus is not in the Great Hall for dinner, headmaster's privilege. I only stay for a few bites. There aren't many students who stay during the holiday break. They stare and whisper. Minerva and Neville make friendly conversation. Minerva seems a bit worried that my stunt made Severus angry._

“He'll come round, don't worry. I apologised to him. He even added to the decoration of my rooms, before he left.”

_Minerva isn't fully convinced, but she tries to share my optimism._

“Your rooms? There have been rumours your elf has been very busy for the last few days.”

_I snigger._ “Nicely put, Minerva. Kreacher has been a bit overenthusiastic recently. I've put it back to a normal level. He decorated everything in Gryffindor colours. I mean everything! Walls, ceiling, carpets!”

“Good Godric! That explains Severus' mood.”

“Not quite, he seemed to think it funny. He doesn't need to try and sleep under golden lions and silver snakes. Do want to have a look after dinner? For a glass of sherry and advice to a horribly nervous new teacher?”

"Maybe you should ask the Deputy Headmaster and Head of Gryffindor?”

_Neville blushes and stares down at his plate. I remember Slughorn's question. Does he really think I want his job?_

“Of course, would you like to join us, Neville? I need any advice I can get. I think these students scare me more than the headmaster.”

_Neville smiles shyly._

“They already adore you. I don't think they talked about anything else than your bike this afternoon and I've seen a few old Witch Weekly passed around.”

“Please, no! I do need your advice desperately.”

_We agree to meet in about half an hour and I return to my rooms to sort out a few more things. Kreacher arrives a few minutes later. He looks a bit disappointed about my alterations. I explain to him that I need something more neutral and lighter. The red might have scared the Slytherin students and made the headmaster nervous. Regulus is back and he agrees. That settles it. Kreacher only wanted to do me a favour. I guess I have to leave most of the bedroom unchanged for the moment. I ask him if he had brought some liquor for the guests I'm expecting. He presents me with a well-sorted bar behind a door in the bookshelves._

_When Minerva and Neville arrive I give them a tour. They show tremendous self-control. Minerva addresses Kreacher._

“You worked a miracle. Your master can really be proud of you.”

_Kreacher beams happily._

“It's just.... don't you think that the red and the gold would look even brighter and more regal with a white ceiling? We do it like that in Gryffindor Tower. Allow me. I can change it back if it doesn't work.”

_Minerva takes out her wand and the ceiling turns white. Kreacher looks at me. I smile and pray that he believes her. He does._

“You've saved my life.” _I whisper while we return to the office._

_We spend a pleasant evening together. Kreacher's sherry is excellent. They give me a short overview on the teachers I don't know, yet and a rather sad account on my predecessor. Neville took over as much of his lessons as he could squeeze in. He'll give me his notes._

“They know how to do spells, but they lack any kind of theory.”

“I expected as much from what Ginny told me. I guess they will hate me in a few weeks.”

_Minerva throws me a very stern look._

“You don't take this lightly, do you?”

“Do you think Severus had hired me if I did? I really wanted this job and I want to do it properly.”

“Sirius, I know you can do it if you really want to. I'm so glad that you and Severus have become friends. He needs a friend, someone he can trust. And so do you.”

“I think he has more friends than he knows, Minerva.” _I reply._ “Now give me a bit of practical advice how to deal with dangerous, under-age beings.”

“Don't accept chocolate from a female student, especially not in the first week after there was an article about you in the papers.” _Neville mutters and Minerva bursts out laughing._

“I think Sirius has known that rule since his 3rd year.”

_I have, but I'm interested in Neville's story. We laugh a lot about various pranks and mishaps in a young teacher's life until they depart around midnight._

_~Severus~_

_I wait for Sirius to enter my office at nine in the morning. I spent some time discussing his case with Regulus. He makes a good go-between, interpreting each others' madness to us both. But he can't take away my scorn about the bike trip, not that he hasn't tried. There are giggling girls in the halls discussing how they'd love to “ride his motorbike” and boys muttering about “I need to get sirius about how I handle my bike.” Petty student nonsense. Even Regulus seems impressed. I am not._

_But I push this from my mind. I have to teach him to close his mind to me. I know two Slytherin students, Sixth year Emil Jugson and Seventh year Briony Wilkes, both with parents in Azkaban, want to rid the school of blood traitors, especially a Gryffindor Black with a Dark reputation he never earned. They seek to find his weaknesses and give him a nervous breakdown._

_This is my excuse to teach the lessons that I am sure he likely knows are meant to block myself. I want him to take the skill and hone it until I am no longer able to penetrate his mind's defences. I am so tempted._

_He needs to learn the next stage, the planting of images. I suspect from the first attempt he already knows how to do something like this. I'd like to dig into his neurones. I stop myself. What I really want is to look at his mind and see his lies, not his truth._

_Jugson and Wilkes. Nearly harmless. What about the Muddleborns of the new era? And their blessed Muddleborn parents? They want to see Darkness and they will search for it ad infinitum. Sirius may have fiddled with Dark magic but Death Eater? He never showed the slightest interest or inclination._

_I glare at the door Sirius is to enter through. I have decorated my own office. It is a muted grey with a touch of silver and shelves everywhere. There is not as much dark wood and no black. There are all the samples and solution but on teak wood. Kreacher begged to help. He wants to help Sirius and me. I want to help Sirius if I can needle him from time to time about his rash choices. He never made as stupid a decision as I did in becoming a Death Eater. He gets my old reputation. The one that never goes away just fades a bit like the Mark itself._

_I don't want to receive the letters that are bound to come. The angry ones and worse, the congratulations on having assigned a sensible member of staff who will teach the children the Dark Arts they so need to learn._

_I need to realise that Sirius is tarred with the same brush I am, to an almost equal degree. The door opens and Sirius comes in. He's usually punctual._

“Severus, _” he says, nodding his head._ “I got your note. We're going to have another go?” _He looks a little defiant. What else is new?_

“Sirius. You're late.”

“Three minutes...” _he protests._

__ “Four minutes and thirty-six seconds.”  _I snap._ “Have a seat, a little further from the fire than last time. We don't need you singed as nearly happened before.”

“You noticed?” _A small embarrassed grin appears on Sirius' face._

“I watch. I listen. And I can think as well.” _My answer needle-sharp._

“Sev, why are you teaching me Occlumency? There is a purpose. You are a Slytherin after all.”

“It is precisely because I am a Slytherin that you need Occlumency. That and there two students, also Slytherins, planning to use it to drive you away from the school using Legilimency. Wilkes and Jugson. They are capable. But they are not the danger. I am.” _It costs me a lot to tell him so._

“Why?” _Sirius has his head to one side._

“I like to watch. I like to listen. And I can think as well.” _I wave a hand to silence him, but there is no need. He is watching me with an expression of shrewdness. Good._

“How? Though I think I can guess parts of it.”

“Sit down.” _It's an order and Sirius looks fed up and obedient in one glance. That's talent. He sits. I look at the left hand of my desk, where there is a bottle of elf-made wine and a flagon of firewhiskey and say,_ “I'd offer you a drink if I didn't think it would lower your defences.” _Fall for it. Fall for it._

“You think one drink would damage my chances? Is that....a bet?” _Sirius has both brows raised and that shrewd look did not disappear._

“I'm not Ludovic Bagman. You want all your faculties...” _False front. This may be the last day I can enter his thoughts in this way. I have a wager with myself that I stay out once he is able to fool me._

“I'm one of the faculty. I had better have all my faculties,” _Sirius jokes._

“Very funny. Judging by your entrance I'd say not.” _I must have my headlights on, beyond the typical glare. But behind the cutting is amusement on my part, waiting for the catch..._

“I'll take your dare. It is a dare...?” _He quips, head on an angle as it so often is like he's trying to rid himself of fleas._

“Of course, it is a dare, and I won't be able to needle you much if you prove adept tonight. I will be trying to gain access to your worst thoughts, what I see of them, and make a character assessment judging by the results. Are you worth me toying with your mind?”

“Stop, you're doing it already. I take the dare, and here's betting you don't get what you want.”

“It is a dare, not a bet.” _I summon the firewhiskey and two shot glasses and pour out a measured ounce in each glass_. “To being a tough nut to crack,” _I say. I want resistance._

“To not cracking at all,” _Sirius replies, with a triumphant bark. We drink, or I appear to._

“To work. Defences. You can block me using any spell, up to a medium strength curse. But I want you to use any strategy to empty your mind and refill it with false, mediocre memories, those that seem the most related because utter harmlessness isn't a strategy. You need to fill the image in my mind with a false front. Imagine. Breathe slowly, inhaling through the nose for the count of ten, hold for the count of twelve, exhale for the count of eight. Or any permutation you find useful. Lie to me and make me believe it. Repel the 'feel' of me in your head. I suggest jinxes. Keep all of this in mind.”

“Information overload. Let me think. I'll take another firewhiskey.” _Sirius looks...well, sirius. Recklessness and danger and he loves it._

“I dare, I don't pry you off the floor.” _I smirk horribly at him._

“I'm ready to give it a first go.” _We both stand, mirroring raising our separate wands._

_I concentrate, breathing in, as I count down_ “Three – two – one –  **Legilimens!** ”

_Pettigrew in the middle of a Muggle street. Flash of an explosion._

__Sirius cowered in the corner of a dungeon. Darkness! No way out! Padfoot lying on a dungeon floor. Dead rats! Bartemius Crouch._ _

__I withdraw. Sirius is kneeling with his eyes closed, but they flash open. I speak before he has gained his breath. “_ _ _ Make at least some attempt. Or I will draw my conclusions about your strength of character that will truly disappoint.” _

__He stands in his dark blue robes and looks at me, concentrating this time, I can tell._ _ _ “Three – two – one –  _ _ **Legilimens!** _ _ ” _

_A dog lying on a pebbled beach. An old Muggle woman kneeling at its side. Padfoot in front of a fireplace. The old woman is feeding him toast dipped in chicken broth. Padfoot is shivering in feverish dreams, shaking, trembling, turns into a man. The woman stares at him in shock._

__That is a lie I can begin to believe. Or was it the truth? I sense some truth and some fabrication. Then I see a wreck of a man up against a wall, smelling salt and decay and listening to seagulls. His hair is matted and filthy. I am blocked by memory after memory of hearing seagulls... his way of tedious surrender is not surrender. It drives me back....with each seagull cry I am pushed into my own mind..._ _

_The Hogwarts Express. A boy wearing plain black robes with a white shirt and black tie. He tells the red-haired girl that he'll be in Slytherin for sure. There's nowhere better. She giggles and …_

_That never happened._

_I push back to Sirius, with the endless sea salt and terrible lonely cries... and pull out, leaving us both breathless._

“You're not shabby. Very few use that defence. It works better for some than others. Were they memories made false by how they are presented?.....That Muggle...who was she?"

 _Sirius smiles reminiscently._ "That woman, Annie Fraser, saved my life after Azkaban. She took Padfoot in and nursed me back to health."

"Despite your alarming change. Did she not call the police?"

"She isn't the kind to call the coppers. Or so she said. She recovered pretty fast, asked if I was a selkie."

"Selkies usually are seals, not dogs. And how long did you stay with the Muggle? Had she heard stories of the goal of Azkaban?" _He had my curiosity piqued._

"A few days. She wouldn't let me go until I was halfway well again. I've told her everything. I didn't care for Ministry laws. She deserved an explanation. She has kept my secrets."

"I would like to meet this elderly Muggle sometime. I am not one to spread stories."

 _Sirius laughs._ "She always says I should bring a friend when I see her. You'll like her. Her herbal potions are really good.”

“Harry and this Annie must get along famously.” _For once I'm not sarcastic._  
“Harry has never asked, nobody has. Wizards don't get in a situation to depend on a Muggle's mercy. That simply doesn't happen.”

_I let Sirius pause, and then I pause for him to go on to the next sentence._

“I used my real memories to defend me. Better than trying to use a false image.” _He smiles wryly._

“Unless you are trying to feed false information.” _I am reminded that he was never a spy._ _We're both sitting now._

“Firewhiskey?” _Sirius asks, his head once more cocked to the side._

_I actually laugh._

“What do I win as a prize?” _Sirius puts down the bottle of Firewhiskey and pours us both a glass of elf-made wine._

“Knowledge that you can beat Severus Snape in a mind game. I was hoping to prove to you that even with a handicap, Occlumency can be achieved. I acted the part of villain once again. I didn't touch the Firewhiskey beforehand.”

“You'll touch it now.” _Sirius is amusing when he growls. But I don't want to see the teeth. I drink._

“One last time, _” I breathe, a twisted grin on my face._ “More evenly matched. Are you prepared? Try your best to think of nothingness, of nothing at all, clear your mind.”

Sirius nods. His hair reflects the torches and the frolicking flames of the fireplace. I bare my teeth. He does the same. “Three – two- one – **Legilimens** !” 

_ ~Sirius~ _

“ **Rictusempra**!” _Blocked and backfiring at me …. Laughter, Lily's crystal clear laughter, sending brooms after us to chase us from the kitchen. I can feel him in my mind, the fury, the despair._

_It's like keeping Dementors at bay. The more you cling to hope and happiness, the more they can take from you. I feel the cold of the Dementors again and see him move his wand. Cold and darkness, no way out! Dead rats! Torches........Coldness, seagulls, water...._

_I try to concentrate on nothing.... Nothingness, cold, silvery, misty nothingness! Padfoot running nowhere. NO! Something...warm, cosy something.... kitchen fire. Remus scolding me for watching the fire. Yellow sparks, red tongues licking at wooden logs. Dancing flames, blue flames, blue eyes penetrating my mind..... a wall of fire!_

_I'm hit by a gush of cold water. Severus is swearing. The rug at our feet has turned to ashes. I must have concentrated too much on fire while holding my wand_

“You're worse than your godson. I've told you to empty your mind and calm it, not to set the room on fire,” _he snarls._

_“ It has worked, hasn't it?"_

_At the next attempt I'm trying to think of what really matters. I think of Severus. Severus as I see him, as I saw him without recognising him._

… _.“How did you figure that out? I mean it sounds like you've given it a lot of thought.”_

_Lily giggles. “I didn't. Severus explained it to me.“....._

… _..An empty corridor, only the two of us, leaning against opposite walls, panting from the fight. I stretch out my hand to a worthy opponent....._

… _. Remus and I returned to the forest. Severus was gone only the ropes remained....._

… _..The lake shore, dark and cold. The stag has disappeared. The Dementors are returning. Severus wrestles his wand from my hand. I await the Kiss to finish it. It's over._

_The Patronus is back. The four-legged silver creature drives away the Dementors. A stretcher, a blanket. The doe holds off the Dementors..............._

_Severus withdraws from my mind. He looks pale._

“You saw it? You knew?”

_I shake my head._ “I saw the doe Patronus, but I didn't recognise it. I still can't make the connection. It didn't look like Lily's at all.”

_Severus stares at me completely baffled. I try to explain, try to make sense of what I've never understood since Harry claimed that Severus' Patronus was the same as Lily's. It wasn't!_

“Hers was a doe and yours is a doe, yes, but that's all. It's like saying Padfoot and Fang are the same because they are both dogs. Harry has made the same mistake with Dora's Patronus. It was a large canine, but it was a wolf, not a dog. Have you ever seen Lily's Patronus?”

_Severus shakes his head._

“Dumbledore said it was a doe.”

“When did you say you learned to cast the spell? From Regulus in 6th year, if I remember correctly. We only learned it in 7th year, private lessons with Dumbledore for the new Order recruits. Your Patronus was a doe before Lily even had one. Wait, I think I know a picture of the doe I saw at the lake. You can tell me if it's correct.”

_I let my eyes wander over the bookshelves. I think I've seen one of Regulus' books on them. Tales about knightly wizards, warriors from a time before time, before the Muggles ruled. Kreacher read from them when we were little and Regulus loved it. I loved it, too._

_I've found the one I've been looking for._

“Look at this picture. This is the Patronus I saw.”

_The illustration shows a young warrior wizard and his familiar. The knight goes on a quest. The next pages show the doe leading the knight through dark forests and over bare mountains. The wizard fights evil and Dark creatures. He discovers magic secrets and treasures._

“Is this your Patronus?”

“Yes, it looks like mine, but....”

“You don't get it, do you? This is your doe, your guardian, your guide on your quest. Lily's Patronus had nothing to do with this. This represents your inner self, your strive for knowledge and great deeds, your ambition..... your own goodness.”

“You show your true nature again. Merciless hound tearing your game apart. You've got to take away the last bit I could rely on.”

_Severus still doesn't understand. He can be such a bloody idiot. I call for one of his ugly portraits._

“Go find my brother. Tell him he's needed here immediately!”

_Severus has lowered his face into his hands. I want to give him my support, put my hand on his shoulder, but I know that he needs to hear it from someone he trusts. Regulus arrives within minutes. He pushes the healer out of his frame and looks around. He sees the open book._

“By Salazar! Sirius, you didn't try to tell him the truth about his Patronus, did you?”

_Severus raises his head._ “Regulus!”  _he cries out._

_“ Sev, I recognised it immediately the moment it took shape. It was so right for you, so perfect. And you started blabbing about Evans. I knew there was no point to tell you the truth. You were deaf and blind when it came to her. I gave you the book in hope you figured it out yourself.”_

_“ Get out!” _ __Severus doesn't shout which makes it even worse. Reggie disappears immediately and I think he's right._ _

__~Severus~_ _

__I cannot be around them, put up with their or anyone's company. Regulus is gone in a flash and Sirius moves in haste to my office door. Are they attempting to drive me insane? The thistle in the soul, the way they twist it? The Blacks have always been given to sadism. Perhaps not but I feel some need to accuse them. They can't mean it. It's like a wound, and they have the salt. A wound I wasn't aware of, but to my even greater chagrin something I have considered before. That we weren't the same doe, each the selfsame Patronus.__

__But this book! I pick it up and hurtle it after Sirius. He just let me see some pretty shaky memories. I should trust him. I asked him here. He is not trying to torture me, he thinks he is giving me a compliment, that's strange. My honour-bound familiar? I think not. Me a knightly wizard on some quest? A symbol perhaps, nothing more._ _

__Zara is rustling on his perch. I feel insane as I do this. I pick up the book, crumpled at the door Sirius disappeared through. I carefully flick through the pages to the image so like my Patronus. The knight looks noble of course. She, the true doe, leads but she isn't Lily. If I could only see Lily's doe. “_ _ _ Is this my Patronus? _ __” I ask Zara like a blithering idiot. He clicks his beak several times and hoots as if annoyed.  
A little bird told me... I may as well ask Alexi as well., but she's off hunting._ _

__Regulus' involvement confirms for me that they are not attempting to cut me down. Something Regulus has hidden for so long....but wait, he's a portrait of a teenager that knew my teenage self, and at the age of sixteen I would never have accepted that the does could be different.  
Some compliment. Though perhaps it is. As if to say, _ _ _ “You aren't honourable in the way you thought you were, but in some way more in keeping with your Slytherin nature.” _ __That's not so bad then. But..._ _

__It's like losing her and gaining myself all over again. There were grief and acceptance and work to do the first time around, and all I can see now is grief. I cannot mirror her. It is about time I leave her, she didn't want me to pine after her. She … was never my doe. I was my own doe. How many times do I have to repeat it until I can feel it?_ _

__The clock chimes twelve. I think the school can do without their Headmaster's presence at lunch._ _


	79. Sirius/Severus:  Taking the dog for a walk and meeting a cat

_~Sirius~_

_I've stayed in my own office until dinner time. Kreacher couldn't be stopped from getting me a few sandwiches when he found out. He tells me that Severus also missed lunch._

_Regulus doesn't blame me for what happened. He knows that I tried to show Severus I respect him for himself. Regulus didn't like Lily anyway. I agreed with him until I realised that she truly loved James and tried to change him for his own good. These Occlumency lessons are a stupid idea. Severus calls me reckless? Our memories are of a kind that should be treated with caution._

_I don't mind what he saw, not even the glimpses of Azkaban. He hasn't seen anything I want to forget, what I need to forget to be able to carry on. I wonder why I haven't seen one single truly happy memory in his mind. There must have been a few._

_If he'd wanted to accuse me, he'd shown me more of the things we did to him, but there was only one. Regulus says he overheard that we had left Severus in the forest and went to free him. I'm glad he did. It took Remus and me a while to return ourselves. We had not noticed at first that James used a binding spell which would not fade. It wasn't the only time we went too far._

_Minerva watches me at dinner, but she doesn't ask. Neville has put together his DADA notes as he has promised. I'm very grateful. Going through them will keep me busy tonight._

_*_

_Monday morning, breakfast in the Great Hall, Severus is back. He acts his cheerful self, scowling at everyone. This is not the time or place to deal with it._

_An eagle owl carrying two letters arrives at the high table. The expected letters from the Ministry. Percy tells us formally that we are expected to meet the Minister for an inspection of the cave tomorrow. Kingsley has added a personal note to mine telling me that the official rescue will only start after he has spoken to Caradoc. Severus has looked at his and folded it immediately._

 

_~Severus~_

_I take the letter from Kingsley and stand. A few staff members rise too, Septima and Neville, then sit down again. Sirius catches my eye just as I go to catch his. We'll have to discuss the letters, decide on the best modus operandi for Tuesday. And I want to see if Sirius got the same message, curiosity has me as if I were Potter nosing in._

_The meeting regarding the cave. I shake my head slowly and stare the ground as I walk to meet Sirius. All of the dead in that cave, all Regulus suffered, and Sirius and I escape death by Minerva's wording “sheer dumb luck” - everything else feels so petty._

_Life is lived by the living not the dead.. even portraits and ghosts... and I think of that and try not to feel resentful that I never got to see Lily's doe. Sirius, the doe. I resolved not to mention it. I won't._

“Sirius,” _I say as I approach his just abandoned chair, casting_ _ **Muffliato**_ _as I go,_ “ I see you've had an owl from Kingsley. Mine says 11am. The time we meet the Minister for the inspection of the cave. I have no problems with the schedule. I have had to shuffle my immense number of social ventures.”

 _Sirius raises an eyebrow then laughs that bark of his. It was once so unwelcome. I dreaded it. Instead, I offer him a dog biscuit. Sirius rolls his eyes. “_ Ever pleasant, Sev, Yes I got the same note. Mine has an addition from Kingsley, about Caradoc.”

“Of course you had an addition. Special Gryffindor edition _.” I take a hint of an ironic bow.  
“_ Sour grapes, Severus.” _Sirius says with a hint of the mischief he eternally manages._

“Actually I prefer sweet wine.” _I smirk slightly to myself._

“We'd better plan what we are going to do.”

“I have already done so. You interact, I skulk.” _I know it's not a real plan._ “I hope Kingsley doesn't send Percy instead. The Weasleys aren't defined by much stoicism.”

“We RSVP, tell Percy the date is fine.”

“Yes.”  
_We don't talk for a few minutes as we make it through the Great Hall and into the corridors._

“Weasleys aside, don't be stoic to the point of foolishness at the cave, Severus. One can only take so much.”

“I say the same for you. I think we know each others limits quite well by now – we warn each other to allow some feeling.” I mock slightly but he doesn't notice. _  
“_ Severus Snape....use the word 'feeling'? And it's not sarcastic?” _Sirius looks as if he's caught a scent._

“You must have fleas bothering you after all. Kreacher's Azidirachta Indica is of some use?” _I ask._

_I mockingly whisk my fist through the air, my knuckles a hair away from his nose. He's laughing with his hand suspended in the air. He catches my fist and twists my wrist away. I scowl. He has limits? Yes. Boundaries? No. Trust? Yes._

_Another misunderstanding? My undercurrent of Occlumency doesn't help matters._

_He looks me straight in the eye, slate-grey eyes so like and so unlike Regulus'. I look back at him. I think the nasty thought that I try to avoid. Why did Regulus die and not Sirius? I smile a strained smile and I can see his tail wagging, if invisibly. This is the way it had to be._

 

_~Sirius~_

_Severus is trying to be social and definitely wants to avoid any awkward topics. That's fine with me. Our friendship is too precious to risk it by rushing things._

“Back on the matters at hand, Kingsley won't take Percy. He wants to talk to Caradoc. Do you remember that they have been very close friends at school? He thinks that your involvement in Caradoc's ….. capture should stay between the three of us. No need to stir up further resentment.”

“I don't think it will take too long, after that Harry and his men will probably be called for. I'm afraid the whole affair won't get us in the Aurors good books. They won't like cleaning up the mess.” _I add chuckling._

_Severus throws me an unreadable glance which might mean either slight consternation about getting in trouble with the Aurors Office or sharing my malicious joy. I decide it means the latter._

“Could you be bothered to think about your own tasks incidentally, since you had a whole afternoon free?” _The headmaster changes the subject to something more serious._

“I have indeed. Neville has provided me with his course notes and I went through them yesterday. You have been right with your warnings. He has had a bit of trouble with certain Slytherins.”

_Severus raises his brows. I shrug._

“I intend to deal with them in my own way. I've already told you that I am not willing to cut your favourites any slack.” 

_Severus seems to remember that I can use sarcasm, too._

“I don't mind my staff enforcing the necessary amount of discipline.”

“I had hoped we could agree on that,” _I reply with a wink._ “Today I have other plans, though. I need a bit of fresh air. Care to take the dog for a walk? I'd like to have a stroll over the ground and visit Hagrid afterwards. Beaky is waiting for me and I have a bag of dried cow rumen for Fang.”

_Severus' face as I say cow rumen is priceless._

“I don't think I'd like to watch your share delicacies with your canine friend, but I don't mind a walk over the grounds.”

“I said it's for Fang. Padfoot prefers his rumen fresh and juicy.” _I burst out in laughter as Severus turns a faint shade of green._ “Just kidding, Padfoot has had enough fresh meat for a lifetime. He's rather spoiled and likes well-cooked human food much better. But if you'd like a nice tasty rabbit or a piece of fowl for supper, he's at your service.”

“No thanks, “ _Severus replies determinedly._ “I suppose you could do with a bit of obedience training. Entrance door in ten minutes, bring a leash and a muzzle.”

“A leash, all right. No muzzle! See you in ten minutes, Sev.” _I do have my limits or Padfoot has a few._

 

_~Severus~_

_I wonder how well Padfoot can fetch and return anything other than a rabbit or squirrel. Sirius seems determined that I spend time with Padfoot.  
What is this, Defence Against the Dog Arts?_

_I'll be interested to see how Sirius deals with his serpentine students. I have no doubt he can handle them 'in his own way'. Perhaps a detention involving feeding Fang dried cow rumen? Snort._

_Sirius knows I don't eat much meat, and I do this out of respect for animals. I will treat Padfoot with more care than a mere human and though we haven't really discussed it I believe he understands that. I walk down to my lower office and retrieve my cloak. I didn't check the ceiling at breakfast. I have no idea if it's snowing._

_The Entrance Hall is occupied by a few Ravenclaw boys who will get detention if they continue to experiment on a salamander with a Muggle butane lighter. I thought Ravenclaws were clever._

“ _Fawcett! Peakes!” I begin but a large and ranging hound lopes over and bares his teeth, growling._

“ _The Headmaster's got a dog! Run for it!” Silly little popinjays reacting without thought. Don't they know better than to run from a sighthound? Or me?  
I snarl out two detentions to be set by Terry Boot and pick up the salamander they left on the bannister. Padfoot knows better than to chase humans, I suppose, because he's here to nuzzle me with his nose._

“ _We'll have to take this salamander to Hagrid's for healing.” Padfoot runs in circles around me, barking. It's very nice to have a dog. I put the salamander in my pocket, reminding myself to keep it in mind when- if- I ever reach Hagrid's door._

 

~Sirius~

_Ten minutes later I trot towards the entrance door, leash and collar between my teeth. I can hardly put on the collar myself after I've transformed and it's quite uncomfortable to wear it during transformation. Snape emerges from the dungeon stairs and snarls at two students who torment a salamander. I do my duty as the Headmaster's hound and round them up for him to tell them off._

_Snape seems to like that kind of discipline._

_He puts the collar around my neck. Good, he remembers to check that it's not too tight. He's obviously not used to holding a leash, much too short and tense. I shake my head and look up to his face. Give me a bit more room and we're not stumbling over each other's feet._

“Heel.” _, he orders me. Sure, whatever you say. You don't pull; I don't pull. Deal?_

_On the stairs he notices that a short leash doesn't give him more control. That's better. You don't need the leash anyway, I'm not going to run away. Not yet. Sirius wants me to be a good boy. I hope he doesn't intend to leave the strap on for the whole walk. I'm looking forward to stretching my legs._

_There's a light snowfall. I like it. It doesn't penetrate my fur. Snape pulls his scarf closer around his neck. I rub my head against him to warm him. He doesn't seem to know what to do but reluctantly pats my head. Not bad, with a bit of practice he'll be a decent human._

_We pass some rocks and I stop for sniffing. Fang has been here recently and some other dog I don't know. I lift my leg. Snape looks consternated. What does he think we're doing? I need to inform the locals that I'm back. Why don't you remove the leash? You could put your hand in your warm pockets and I could do my sniffing._

_At the edge of the forest there's a hare. Snape doesn't notice. I stand still, watch and listen. Now Snape has seen it, too._

 

“No hunting, Padfoot. I've already told Sirius.”

 

_All right, all right, I got the point. No hunting. It's fine with me. I don't hate hares. I don't enjoy killing. I'm not hungry, but I'd like to run, to chase. Run free on the Hogwarts grounds, just for the fun of it._

_I do calming signals again, look down yawn, slightly wagging my tail and then I look at him. Do away with the leash. If you let me go, I'll stay. I can smell Snape's insecurity. He doesn't trust me. He needs the leash to feel safe and in control. I lower my head in resignation. It takes patience to train a man. After all, he's been through, he has to learn again to trust his dog. His dog? Snape's dog? I used to be James' dog or was James my boy? He played with me, shared his food and let me run wherever I wanted and I protected him. I'd like to have a human who can look after me. Not that I need looking after, but it's nice to know that someone can, should I need it. I press my nose into Snape's hand. He twitches and growls about slobbering mutts. All right, let's try something more advanced._

_There's a stick on the side of the path. I pick it up and carry it a while. We have reached the lake. Snape stops and looks over the glittering surface. He loosens the leash a bit. Just enough for me to move in front and sit. I wag my tail expectantly._

 

“You want me to unleash you and throw the stick, don't you?” _I stand and jump up and down on my front legs, wagging._ “Why should I do that? Most likely you'll run after the hare and be gone for hours.”

_I stop jumping and sit again. I won't, trust me, trust me._

 

“Let's see how much you can control yourself. Will you obey my orders, Padfoot?”

 

_I wag my tail. He opens the spring catch and takes the stick. I want to jump again, but I know he won't like that. I wait. My eyes follow every movement of the stick. Throw! Do it! Now! Stop teasing!_

 

“Stay!”, _he says and throws the stick. I watch it fly and land behind a bush of gorse._ “Fetch!”

 

_I run and fall into a snow-filled ditch beside the path. No reason to halt. I shake the snow off, sneeze and run around the bush sniffing. There are several sticks, but I can find the one smelling of me and Snape. Running back, jump the ditch this time and I sit at Snape's feet, holding the stick, wagging._

_Snape takes the stick and I wait again for his order to fetch it. This time it has landed on plain ground. I find it within seconds. When I try to pick it up, it jumps. I bark in joy. I like this game and jump after the stick which flies through the air, makes loops and evades me. Snape is standing on the path making it jump with his wand. I hardly remember when someone played with me like that. James knew the trick, but nobody else did. A few more jumps and I catch it in the air._

_Snape walks along the lakeside the lake throwing the stick for me to fetch and I bring it back every time. The stick hits a rock, bounces off and falls on the ice. I hesitate. The ice won't carry my weight. Tapping with a paw I hear it cracking. I look at Snape to do something. He smirks._

 

“You know as a dog you're a good deal more reasonable than as a man.”

 

_I doubt Sirius would jump into ice-cold water without good reason, but you never know what men consider good reason. Snape seems to agree that a stick is not. He calls me._

 

“What do you think, Padfoot, enough running for today? Show that you can be a well-behaved walking companion.” 

 

_Does he still doubt I am? I move to his left side and rub my nose against his thigh. I'm starting to get used to his smell. He smells like Alexi of peppermint, chocolate and pickled toads. What I like most about him is that he's not talking all the time. He says what is necessary and that's all. Some humans talk and talk and talk and say nothing. No wonder that they usually don't get what's going on around them._

_Another hare is running in the distance. Snape sees it, too. His hand goes down to my collar. I watch the hare, but I've promised to stay with Snape. The hare is gone. I turn my head and lick his fingers in my collar. He moves one finger through my fur._

_We have reached the edge of Hagrid's garden. It's bare of plants except for a few kales. One of the now brown stalks is moving suspiciously. I hear a thin and all too familiar piping. I don't care about Snape's hand on my neck and run. One jump and a squeal! I throw the dead rat over the garden wall._

_Snape orders me back. He's angry, grabs my collar and puts the leash back on._

 

“So much about listening to what I say and obeying orders.”

 

_I pull him over and show him. He must understand. Not hunting; killing rats! No fun, necessity!_

_He looks at the dead animal and at me. I look at him pleadingly. He returns my look thoughtfully. It reminds me of Remus. No, not exactly like Remus, Snape's eyes show understanding rather than that annoying look of pity._

_I walk over to the water barrel at the corner of Hagrid's hut and turn human. I crash the ice and put my head into the water. Get rid of the horrible taste and smell of rat!_

 

_~Severus~_

 

 _While Sirius is demeaning himself with water – though I imagine that rat tasted so very pleasant – I ready myself to knock on Hagrid's door. Then I remember the collar. The chain. I snort and walk over and undo the collar. I hold the chain and smirk at him._ “Hagrid would just love to see me walking you. He actually trusts me with your well-being. Unless he thinks I am driving you mad. I hope he's right on that last count.”

 

_I drop the collar and chain over Sirius' outstretched hands. He's looking at me with a half-smile. That's worse than a glare. He knows it, the bastard, and he keeps smiling and he knocks on Hagrid's door before I get the chance._

 

“Thanks for the walk,” _he says as Hagrid booms “C'min.”_

 

_He's sitting at the scrubbed wooden table in colossal work shirt, shelling peas as he so likes to do. His new boarhound is also called Fang, it seems he likes the name. I can't tell the difference but I'm sure Sirius can. Well, even I can see it's a younger and thinner dog. Boarhounds are not the most aesthetically pleasing dogs. I like that this one's nature is the same as the other. As Hagrid beckons us to sit down he puts his head in Sirius' lap and drools._

 

“Your new mate Fang has the same name as his predecessor then? _” Sirius asks abruptly. Hagrid waves a huge hand and dabs his streaming eyes with the same spotted handkerchief he has been using for years. At least it's clean._

 

_While Hagrid tells Sirius about where he purchased Fang and that he came from a student, Sirius smiles. Apparently, it's one of the Slytherins, Briony Wilkes, that has been causing trouble. Sirius' head creases for a second, then he says, “She got that part right, then. Was it at her suggestion?”_

 

“If I agreed to buy my dog food from her.” _Hagrid smiles his whiskery smile._

 

“Figures, _” Sirius smiles again. I see. If I want that reaction from Sirius I should be ten feet tall and hulking, with a sixteen-foot half-brother living in the forest with a nineteen-foot giantess._

 

_I muse as my eyes rove as ever over the cabin, seeking automatically the place I'd find certain roots, herbs, the odd unicorn hair and sometimes dropped Knarl quills. Hagrid follows my eye, it seems._

 

“I remember yeh – gatherin' – roots an' berries an' herbs an' bits o' rare plant and animal stuff. Nickin', you'd call it. Thievin' even. You and young Regulus creepin' about when yeh'd find me not at all. I'm not blamin' yeh. Nah. No more'n I'd blame Harry for knowin' more than he ought. Him- an' Hermione an' Ron of course. What a handful. Now, look at them! Aurors and Hermione Head of Department at her age. Bright one. Even brighter than Lily, and that's saying some...”

 

“Something quite unnecessary. Drop Lily Evans. Now _.” I just bark at him. My teeth are bared. Hagrid, to my consternation, seems surprised but still rather amused._ “Thought you might like to...”

 

“I have other things on my mind these days. Switch topics _.” I snarl._

_  
_ “All right. Remember in your Third year I showed yeh the Thestrals? _” Hagrid looks weepy._

 

“I can scarcely forget.” _One bothersome topic to another._

 

“Could you see them in Third year? _” Sirius asks inquisitively, almost accusatory I think._

 

“Yes, _” I say through gritted teeth._ “If you must know, then I'll tell you in some detail.”

_  
_ “You tried to pretend not to see them, I remember, Headmaster. _” Hagrid is less boisterous and a lot more thoughtful. Thank Salazar._

 

“I will tell you if I am not interrupted.”

 

“I won't say...” _Hagrid begins._  
  
“Now that I have been interrupted, there will be quiet. Fine. I was six years old, playing in a sandbox when I first saw her. Some older kids were bothering me and some younger kids pitched in too. Four on one. I am sure that sounds familiar, but these were Muggle children in my neighbourhood. And old woman feeding the pigeons put a stop to it. I looked at her and remember she seemed to know this had happened before. Whenever I played, she would look out her window and come and stop the other kids calling me names and throwing sand in my face. Calmed the other kids when I levitated things. One day, after about three weeks, I looked up and she was slumped sideways, and she seemed to be trying to lift her arm but couldn't. She looked scared. I went and put my hand on her hand...and she went calm, and then just died, right there. I know now it was a stroke. She had known I was magic and had accepted me. I had known she was a Muggle and had accepted her.” _My stupid sappy side seeps out._

 

_Hagrid had massive tears in his eyes and when I looked up at Sirius he looked very odd. He keeps his mouth shut on the topic. He looks troubled. I think he thinks I must be anti-Muggle simply by virtue of being a Slytherin. Has he not noticed the Weasleys? Hagrid's sobbing makes things easier. Someone to snipe at._

_  
_ “Pull yourself together, you're too easily swayed. Just like last time.” I stand. “I think it's time to leave. I must get to the office and have some time to think without interruptions.”

 

_I almost say, “and tears” but Hagrid is not wise to turn against us._

 

_Sirius stands too. I notice a pungent smell coming from his hand, what looks like a strip of dried honeycomb. It's the terror treat of cow rumen. Fang takes it eagerly from his hand._

 

_Just an excuse to leave. Sirius is thanking Hagrid for the visit._ “See yeh, Headmaster, always welcome y'know, _” Hagrid sniffs at me._

 

“You are welcome at the Headmaster's office at any time, Hagrid _.” It's the closest I'll come to an apology. Then I remember._

  
“Could you heal a Salamander for me? It's been burned on the stomach by irresponsible students and looks like it has scale rot too.”

 

_I bring the salamander out of my pocket and place it in Hagrid's outstretched hand. He brings out his other hand, and though I hate shaking the wrong hand, I shake._

 

“Buckbeak out back? _” Sirius asks,_ “I'd love to see him.”

  
“Beaky! He's right at the pumpkin patch. Don't call him Witherwings. Just Buckbeak. _” I smile slightly as Sirius tears off around the end of the cabin, happier than I've seen him recently, even the bike ride. I'm not going near Hagrid's creatures. The talon may be in the next bangers and mash._

 

 

_~Sirius~_

_Severus looks less than enthusiastic about meeting Buckbeak. I remember Harry said something about an attack after Dumbledore's death._

_I grab the dead rat by the tail and walk over to the pumpkin patch. Buckbeak blinks and jerks his head. Then he makes a clucking sound with his beak and purrs deep down in his throat. I bow slightly and give him the rat which he swallows immediately._

_Beaky lowers his head and pecks at my shoulders. I ruffle his feathers._

 

“All right, old boy, it's all right. You still remember me, do you?” 

 

_Buckbeak spreads his wings and bows low inviting me to climb on his back._

 

“No, not today, Beaky. The headmaster doesn't like spontaneous flights. I live here now and we'll be seeing each other as much as possible. Maybe he gives us permission to fly another day.”

 

_Severus doesn't look like it and Beaky turns his head sideways to muster him carefully with one of his beady eyes.._

 

“Oh c'mon, say hello to each other and make friends. Severus, I assume you know how to introduce yourself to a hippogriff? Once we're done with the formalities, Buckbeak is a very loyal and polite pet.”

 

_Severus reluctantly bows to the hippogriff and Buckbeak returns the greeting. They should get along pretty well from now on, both being quite similar in their need to be treated with respect._

 

“Are we done with Care of Magical Creatures now?”

 

“Not quite, scratch him at this spot right above his beak. He really likes that. See, he is clucking his beak.”

 

_Severus rolls his eyes as Buckbeak starts pecking at the buttons of his coat._

_We take our leave from Buckbeak a few minutes later. Severus holds up the collar and I obediently turn into Padfoot again. I shake my head as he tries to attach the leash. We don't need it. I walk at his side like a good dog._

 

_Back at the castle I shake off the snow in the middle of the entrance hall and turn human again. The students really enjoy it. Especially as Filch storms in and rants over professors giving a bad example to the students, making his work even harder and all that. I remove the water with a flick of my wand. No need to make such a fuss about it._

 

“Any plans for the afternoon, Severus?”

 

“I think you should get on with prepare your lessons. You've got much to do. I'll be meeting Minerva for tea. I'll expect this month's lessons outlined by Thursday if you want a night out.”

 

“All right Headmaster, I'll be doing my homework.” _I've actually intended to work on that anyway._

 

 

_~Severus~_

 

_After taking the hound for his trip to Hagrid's and Sirius insistence on me overcoming my dislike of Buckbeak. Sirius just climbed on and took flight the moment he met Buckbeak. Dumbledore told me about how he escaped the Dementors I would have let suck his soul dry. Bloody show-off Gryffindor. Always has to do things the grand way. I'd like him to see that beast rearing at him, talons ready to dig deep and slash – as friendly as a Blast-Ended Skrewt and I hope Sirius remembers Hagrid trying to procure a Manticore in our Second year. It took Professor Kettleburn to sort that out._

 

_My mind is on Minerva now. She said to meet for tea at her office. Stiff wooden chairs and tartan everywhere. Her fire is always well tended, and the ginger newts don't exactly taste terrible. I can deal with her because she always speaks her mind. One of the few._

 

_I drop off my cloak in the dungeon office and pick up the student register and a file of complaints about Emil Jugson and Briony Wilkes, all penned by her and other irritated staff members. And about five notes about three other students. One of them is a Flint in Gryffindor. A relative of Sirius and myself, perhaps? I put in a note about the Ravenclaw boys myself, regarding Fawcett and Peakes. It's good to play relativity when to comes to miscreants from other houses._

 

_I keep thinking of the malicious smile the boy torturing the salamander. That isn't something you'd find me doing at that age. Not Sirius, not even James Potter. More of a Pettigrew style. Or the departed Bellatrix._

 

_I am thinking so internally I offshoot Minerva's office door by several yards. I double back, grinding my teeth, and feel humiliated to discover my face has flushed at not paying attention, something I always tell the students._

 

_An impatient foot set an inch high is tapping at McGonagall's door. I flush even more horribly. One would expect it at fourteen... not now._

 

“Tell me Severus, are you going to walk past again? You're late.”

 

“Four minutes, the world will not expire because I was not here earlier to listen to you vent your spleen, _” I come back at her._

 

“That's not the point. _” Her words are like knives cutting. Sharp._

 

“Then skip the diatribe _.” I'm a bit short with her today._

 

_Minerva considers me. “_ Do sit, I shall fetch the tea- if it has not gone stone cold. _” But she's smiling._

 

_I sit in one of the wooden chairs and feel like I'm sitting on two points. The chair is hard and unforgiving on my bony rear. I shift._

 

“Would you like a pillow?”

_  
_ “I'm quite fine, thank you. What is your complaint today? The moon run out of shine? _” I refer to her homemade Firewhiskey. She rarely touches it. But when she does, she actually lets down her hair for what seems .028 of a minute._

 

“I won't bother with asinine...” she begins.

 

“You must bother with asinine comments or you couldn't ever have been Headmistress or Head of Gryffindor.”

  
“Severus. _..” she tries to stay stern but her lips twitch. She brings out the tartan tin and offers me a ginger newt. One must take a ginger newt. If you don't she summarily ejects you from her office._

 

“What is the problem this time? You should be telling the Deputy Headmaster, but he's got company at the moment. Sirius. Enjoying books and papers...he's not a complete loss so far. He seems able to adapt.”

 

“Of course he does. Clever, he always was, but never a knowledge for its own sake Ravenclaw.” _Minerva's gaze is misted as she thinks back. She seems to like those days. She always shooed us apart, Sirius and I. Once with a broomstick, another time with a large swishing ruler, and countless times with her wand._

 

“It's Sirius I wish to discuss. You can put down your register and your lists of current offences. They don't mean the same as a simple ride on a motorbike. _” She pours out some tea, I can't remember which it is by smell. I take a sip and think of motorbikes. I wince inside but remain inscrutable. She's going to tell me off for overreacting to the motorbike trip, or wax ecstatic over her small part in the adventure._

 

“You never saw eye to eye. But at breakfast, you did more. You didn't watch Sirius at all during breakfast. You showed more than antipathy, you even showed trust in not watching. Much as you may hate to hear it – you welcomed Sirius to the school. You even took part in decorating his office along with that aged elf of his.”

 

“Am I allowed to vomit yet, Minerva? _” I can tell my eyes have that glitter they get when either I or those around me should feel fear. She should watch it._

 

“Your point is _?” I snap._

_  
_ “You have a friend. Accept him.”

 

“I've done that! How many owls did he send over the past months!” _I snarl it._

 

“Then congratulations.”

 

“You try taking the lousy mutt for a walk, see how he tries to convince you foot-long talons are friendly.”

 

_Minerva actually giggles. I glare at her._ “Having fun _?” I snap._

_  
She comes to her senses. “_ Not at all, Headmaster.”

 

_She grips me with her talon-like grip on the shoulder. I still feel like I'm sitting on sharp edges. It just enhances my oh so happy mood._

 

“I'll just act on my own about the miscreants then.”

  
“As you must, Severus, as you do anyway.” _She winks, letting go of her pincer grip, and I want to bellow in frustration. Instead, I decide to frustrate her._

 

“Thank you for your input Minerva. Always appreciated.” _I set down my tepid tea._

 

“The same.”

_  
I retreat from her office, thinking about Sirius, and Sirius himself bumps into me with an armful of paperwork._

 


	80. Severus/Sirius: The Cave again

_~Severus~_

“Sirius,” _I say,_ “You bump into the strangest people in the corridors.” _We collided._

“I was looking at my notes but you bumped into me first,” _growls the tall hound._

“I'm so very sorry then,” _I sneer. I continue in a businesslike tone_. “About tomorrow. We'll meet at half past ten sharp in the Entrance Hall. We have to get out of the grounds. I know you dislike Apparition unless absolutely necessary, but it's necessary. Like Percy Weasley said, we meet the Minister at eleven.”

“Fine.” _Sirius seems tired._

“Get some early rest, you need it. Go!” _I shove him in the small of the back._ “We meet well after breakfast, I won't be there. I will busy with other matters.”

“What other matters?” _Sirius enquires._

“Preparation for tomorrow, mutt, what else? Surely you are doing the same when not lost in student records?” _My tone of voice indicates scepticism. Is he planning or is he going to just make it up as he goes along? I do both. Does he?_

“You had me lost in notes for Defence, and I want to finish. I'll think about Caradoc later.” Sirius shrugs his broad shoulders stubbornly. 

“You think of Dearborn but not the strategy of how to even arrive?” _I ask incredulously._

“That will be decided with the Minister. And we've been there before.” _Sirius shrugs yet again._

“Yes, and various former Death Eaters and their kin know that. What better way to get back at the current regime than jinx and entrap or curse the traitorous Headmaster of Hogwarts, Shacklebolt as Minister and you who they know you have never ...openly... been a Dark wizard? They know where Regulus came from, Slughorn having told every fool he meets. I was fool enough to tell him where Regulus' body came from and not all former Death Eaters are stupid.” _I speak every sentence with a clipped tone._

“I hadn't considered that ” _Sirius admits. It's hard not to sneer at that fact but I don't. Never antagonise a Black without due caution. He has Goblin lawyers and the Black family incisors, I think with a smirk._

“What?” _Sirius asks impatiently. Inscrutability takes over._

“My expression is nothing. See you tomorrow at ten thirty. And don't be late. _” I snap, but I give him a small smile that makes his own face grin. He veers around me and continues on his parchment-heaped way up to the seventh floor._

 

***

  _I wake up from the vilest dream. I was in the cave with Regulus and Kreacher, watching Regulus plead for me to help him as half-decayed Inferi pull him beneath the surface, into the black waters... the Black lake, they should call it, in memoriam._

_Drenched in cold sweat, I stand and splash water on my face and strip down, laying in cold and clammy sheets. Distracted, I get up and sit by the fire drinking tea. Just thinking._

_I'm going to strap my wand to my arm. Easy access from strange angles, just in case there are true Dark Wizards aiming to get at us. I'll bring a phial of blood – my own – among other things. I think that the hidden entrance arch has resealed itself, it did so after the former Headmaster was there. I know we don't need to enter the cave but in case of the impossible, water._

_An hour later I have made my preparations, the blood, the wand strap, water and a few Galleons, and double checked my inventory of useful spells. I leave the dungeon office and walk to the Entrance Hall, keeping an eye on Sayla's watch. Ten minutes. I was so purposeful in my tread that I didn't keep an eye on the few students still here; I barely noticed half of them shrinking against the corridor walls._

_Sirius arrives with two minutes to spare. We stand side by side, watching for a sign of Kingsley from inside the open oak front doors. He knows how to access Hogwarts if he wishes. He could floo but I think he'd like to stretch his legs in that job. I've given him access to the castle should he need it._

_I am about to ask Sirius what he has prepared for but he is saved by the coming of the Minister for Magic, the tall dark man with the gold hoop earring. He appears to be carrying his wand. No Aurors, good man. Some Gryffindors actually command real respect and he has mine. That doesn't mean I let him in on that fact._

_He reaches us and we're shaking hands, and Kingsley says,_ “Good of you to come, Severus. You were instrumental in this. You know I hold nothing against you. You've ...” 

“Yes, yes. Shall we go down to the entrance and down onto the High Street?” _I don't want people hearing about how terribly cooperative I have been. Especially students. But the students have made themselves scarce._

“Where is this cavern containing the lake again? I have the rough location but not a specific name.” _Kingsley turns his deep brown eyes on me._

“Crescent Cliff. I suggest we approach with caution.” _I speak the word 'caution' softly._

“I think so, yes. There are still renegades here and there. What about you, Sirius?”

 _Sirius seems to be thinking back, from the look on his face._ “Like an old friend said, constant vigilance.”

_A good sentiment. Not at all paranoid as they used to say, Alastor Moody, even if we never saw ... eye to eye._

_We have left the castle behind. The grounds are still snowy, but just a dusting compared to other years. We walk in silence through the gates adorned with winged boars. Kingsley is lost in thought, we all are._

_Kingsley gives me a significant look, and Sirius too, as we close the gates of Hogwarts behind us. “_ Ready, you two _?” he asks in his deep, measured voice and Sirius nods. I jerk my head. “_ Now _!” the Minister says quietly, and we Disapparate._

_I am wrenched through space in compression until I smell the salty air and see the sign Crescent Cliff, 2 miles, and stare at an outcropping of rock, a cliff....a cavern....a cave. I know this though I can not see the cave from here. It seems to draw me. Kingsley appeared next moment beside me with a pop, panting as I was from the bands that squeezed during Apparition. Sirius appeared with an undignified crack right afterwards. He looks put out about Apparating, but he also looks very, very aware of his surroundings, as if his hearing has the quality of a hound's._

_We walk from the sign, toward the cliff in silence, trying to get a good vantage point to see from. We seem to have a tactic of sheer silence, and I cast Muffliato over the three of us as well. There were a lot of heaps of hay a former Death Eater could hide behind, an abandoned barn, a wall with a slippery cold chain hanging from it, and a place to descend to get to the fissure in the rock. All three of us are silent as we grab bits of rock and move on, climbing down the landward side of the rock._

_I feel around, clutching the walls of a cliff next to that fissure in the rock, my footsteps unsteady on the slippery sea-sprayed outcropping. My heart thunders in my ears._

_We edge along the cliff to the mouth of the cave, a narrow fissure, Sirius in the wary lead. Niches, jagged, full of edges, are good footholds. I have my wand strapped to my arm and wrist so I will not lose it, could cast spells from precarious positions. Every step was calculated. I was in no rush after all, and have no use for falling to my death.  
_

_The entrance was definitely there. Now for the part, I hate, getting wet and swimming. I am a decent swimmer, but I feel queasy when l ooking down onto the ocean from my narrow protection. There is water funnelling in from the ocean, into the crag or crevice or whatever. The water doesn't scare me._

_The knowledge of those calling me a traitor ... they made me feel both sick with venom and very awake, and they never seem to notice it is I and the Minister, sliding on the rock behind me, that shorten their stay in Azkaban or keep them out altogether, as much as we can work around Granger. As if I did not know and understand what it was to be branded with the Mark. I pay attention and make eye contact with Kingsley and Sirius. None of us speaks, we listen intently to the gurgling, whooshing water._

_Sirius drops as Padfoot to the water silently, a slight splash following. Kingsley follows. I bring up the wary rear. The waves press us against the jutting rocks, and we swim with the stream. There are a lot of good places to curse us from. My clothes billow around me, sopping, and I go in the lead past the paddling Padfoot. I'm a better swimmer and I can spot the unusual very quickly. But Kingsley knocks me on the back and takes the lead from there. He's a strong swimmer, much more so than I am. Our sopping garments impede our progress and the tunnel we enter went on and on. The air is still and much darker now. We slipped up to a semi path and a rock wall. There are two steps leading in, one more than last time._

_Kingsley climbs up first, then me, and finally Padfoot shakes on us but as we're already sopping it makes no difference. Sirius resumes his usual form and points his wand at me. Instantly my robes are dry._

_This is a stronghold of powerful magic. You can sense it. The Dark Lord's methods were clever - very clever and without regret. Even after we've penetrated the entrance, there are still many ways to attack us._

_I look at Kingsley who gives me a nod. I defer to his expert judgement and I know Sirius will too. I lay a finger on my icy lip and cast the spell I know to be of some use. “ **Homenum Revelio**_ ”  _ I say to myself silently.  _

_I hear the echo, four brief echoes, around me. The cavern seems to hide many secrets. Flinging out my left arm, I hold Sirius back with it, and give him a significant look. I hold up four fingers. Four Death Eaters. Shacklebolt nods, and then Sirius cottons on. I see the knowledge in his eyes._

“Declare yourselves! _” the Minister says in that eternally deep calming voice._

_And then we hear the sound of footsteps and robes slithering over wet stone. We have truly met resistance at last. Sirius jumps out and begins firing hexes at our assailants, who I can't see well as my eyes have not yet become accustomed to the light. Hound's eyes as well? To work._

_Instantly there is a shower of spells aimed at us and they mean business. Two of them use spells aloud and we can hear **Avada Kedavara** used twice, green jets, an orange one, two red stunning spells are aimed at them by Kingsley and Sirius. The Death Eaters are all wearing the traditional black, melting into the niches around them. A masked male aims an unspoken hex at Sirius and I actually shout **Protego** to watch Sirius move safely to the other more raised side of the cavern, where the entrance to the cave is concealed. These spells are going to make the cavern collapse if we continue much longer. _

_The walls glisten wetly but for the dry glowing arch leading to the cave. Kingsley dashes ahead and lets loose an Impediment Jinx. I snarl silently my **Confringo** while aiming low at a masked figure, female to judge by the slightness and form, completely avoiding the cavern wall. A risk, that one. I am going to be party to slaughter if I continue such physically forceful spells.  
I leap back and slip on a slick wet rock, losing my balance, just as the shortest Death Eater aims their wand at me. Looks like one of the nasty spells I invented and I raise my wand arm to block the spell._

_A surge of purple light is too fast for me._

_But it's too slow for Sirius' own Shield Charm. I take the opportunity to aim **Sectumsempra** at the arm of the short one, the female who seems to be doing the worst damage. She drops her wand and shrieks, then snatches her little stickup and pulls her mask off. Her left arm is a bloody mass spreading to her shoulder and that's the chance you take, girl when you try to use such a spell on me. She wrenches off her mask in agony. Brown hair and grey eyes, thin, middle-aged, robes the wrong cut and size. Her husband's old robes. It is Briony Wilkes' mother. This adds interest, not pity._

_Kingsley shouts and I can't hear him. Sirius is running into the centre of the cavern, dodging behind large boulders. Then I see Kingsley is bleeding or covered in someone's blood. “Caradoc, Severus, Caradoc!” he booms and I understand at once, I run spitting through a sea of spells, aiming for the archway that seems to gleam for me, my own raw and bloody shoulder not enough for the price it wants. I whisk the large phial of blood and spatter it where is indicated by memory._

_The wall dissolves. I know Caradoc Dearborn will protect his unburied kin._

_The smell makes me retch, the sick sweet decay nearly brings me to my knees but I master myself. “_ Caradoc Dearborn! Just imagine, Death Eaters on your watch _!” I can't help irony and sarcasm even at moments of peril. The Inferius-turned-ghost is revealed, glides through the archway and the mere sight of his rage make all but the Wilkes stand as if paralysed – and she aims an utterly useless Killing Curse at Dearborn. It causes no damage, it goes right through him. What did she expect? The other Death Eaters back away with great caution. They don't take the ghost of an Inferius lightly._

_“_ You shall never leave this place _!” Dearborn cries impressively, and suddenly I am in a shroud of darkness, a blast of cold, and something worse than Dementors comes, the sucking souls of a thousand decaying bodiless souls, something that will trap us in limbo, hanging in space, unable to move except for the eyes._

_My wand is still attached to the arm and wrist, and I think Expecto Patronum and my doe appears bright and proud only to die out and become lifeless by my side, instead of charging she fades to black, wretched and lifeless. What terrible power can do this to a Patronus?_

_Dearborn!_

_The Death Eaters and I are locked in a dark mist, bound by an invisible form of the Incarcerous Jinx._

_I can see Kingsley and Sirius move to me. Sirius is paler than death but not bound. And you thought Caradoc understood my position, Sirius. Your blasted admirable friend finds me to be a snake and no more. He saw me fight... but he didn't. But why would I call him if I did not want help? Perhaps the dry humour irritated him. My doe! At her most dazzling I saw her for who she is and now am I forced to watch my guardian spirit of a deer become an eternal nothing?_

_~Sirius~_

“Caradoc, can't you tell friend from foe?” _I growl to hide my worry and Kingsley adds, “Release Severus at once!”_

_The ghost hesitates and looks from one of us to the other. Kingsley move towards him his hand outstretched._

“Caradoc, old friend....” _he starts trying to convince the ghost to release our friend._

_I watch Severus' Patronus crumble. He stares at the fading doe and at his useless wand. Caradoc still refuses to let him go. Severus raises his wand again to try another spell and suddenly I do understand._

“Don't use magic, Sev!” _I shout._ “It feeds on the spells cast by the living. Use Muggle means!”

_Severus reacts immediately. He lowers his wand and.... pulls something out of his pocket. Padfoot's leash! It's definitely more fun to be with a wizard who uses his common sense. I move as close to the mist as I dare. Is the leash long enough?_

“Don't touch it, Sirius,” _comes a warning from Kingsley._

“Don't give me orders, Minister. Talk some sense into your friend.” _I'm not that much of an idiot. This mist is Dark Magic gone substantial. It is similar to the horror we faced in Azkaban, darkness, pain, torture and death, but this is controlled by a friend of mine. A friend who should see reason at last._

“Caradoc, please let him go.”

“I can't, Sirius,” _the ghost replies._ “If I let Snape go, the others will be released, too.”

_Severus has heard the judgement. He moves the leash between his fingers. The mist inhibits all movement. Can he throw it? He can and it's just long enough. I can reach for the metal snap at the edge of the mist. Severus holds the loop at the other end. I try to pull, but the mist is too thick. Severus' face is determined. We look in each other's eyes. I won't let go, my friend. He gropes his way along the thin leather strap. It's like a silent dance in slow motion. Two yards only, but it seems a thousand miles. I can't do much. If I pull, the mist sucks me in. Fingertips stick out first and then slowly a hand emerges. I grab it. It's cold as ice. As soon as I really get a hold of it I pull. The mist gives way too suddenly and we both fall over backwards._

_I don't let go of Sev's hand immediately. His whole body is freezing cold and he is even paler than usual._

“Even as ghosts typical Gryffindors! Shoot first, think later.” _mutters Severus struggling to get on his feet and wrestle his hand from mine._

_I laugh happily when I see that he's perfectly fine._

“I'm sorry, Snape. You got in the way. Are you really one of us?”

 _Severus glares at the ghost._ “One of you? Not in a thousand years.”

_The Dark mist wavers as the cave is filled with Gryffindor laughter. We get serious again soon enough. The Death Eaters or more likely Death Eaters wannabes, because I don't recognise any of them, lie crumbled on the ground. They didn't get the warning about not trying to use magic and the darkness around them has thickened._

_Kingsley observes them carefully._

“You've got to release them, Caradoc. The woman is bleeding to death if you don't.”

_Severus' face turns stubbornly defensive trying to figure out, if that was a slight reproach of his use of **Sectumsempra**. I give him an encouraging half-smile. People get hurt in fights. This wasn't hexing in Hogwarts corridors. _

“Drop your wands and surrender! “ _Kingsley is facing our enemies who don't have another choice than obeying the Minister of Magic._

_We stand at his side our wands pointing at them._

“Full Body Bind as soon as the mist dissolves,” _Kingsley commands. We're not taking chances._

_We nod in agreement each aiming at the male nearest to us. The woman seems to be unconscious. The mist wavers and fades. The three men are bound in an instant by three simultaneous spells._

_ I turn to Sev.  _ “Can you...?”  _ but he has already knelt down at the woman's side and started to look after her injury. She is not unconscious and stirs and moans in agony. The blood is gushing out of her severed shoulder. Severus passes his wand over her body.  _

“Treacherous bastard,” _she hisses through gritted teeth. Severus ignores her. He calms himself and concentrates. I hardly believe what follows next. This is magic, magic not taught at Hogwarts, magic which couldn't be found in even the oldest family libraries. I can identify the structure of the incantation, its rhythm. The language seems to be an old Welsh dialect. I am not sure because I only have mastered the very basics of those ancient languages, barely enough to learn some spells by heart. From what I can understand Severus sings healing. He makes the blood vessels connect, the flesh cut by his spell grows back together. The wound closes. He renews the world as it was meant to be. The tune fills the air and makes it quiver. Time stands still._

_We watch and listen in awe. We all have heard or read about this kind of magic, but we've never witnessed it. Severus has stopped singing. He takes a small phial out of his pocket and applies what I suppose is dittany. The woman has stopped her muttering when he started the incantation. Severus takes her wand and binds her, too. Not letting her die is one thing; foolish pity another._

_Kingsley is the first to speak again._ “The Aurors can take care of them later. I have come here to meet a friend and see about the situation with the bodies.”

_We leave the prisoners in the small passage and enter the cave. The air has been cleared a bit by the draft from the tunnel and we don't need Bubblehead Charms. The sight is still disgusting. Kingsley avoids Caradoc's eyes._

“We should have taken care of this earlier, “ _he whispers to himself._

 _Caradoc smiles at his friend._ “I knew you'd come as soon as possible.” 

_Kingsley shakes his head in embarrassment._ “No, we forgot about this. I forgot about this. Too busy with everyday politics. If Severus and Sirius hadn't insisted....”

“You are here now and you will arrange for us to get decent funerals, won't you?”

“Yes, of course. A team from the Aurors Office will arrive to recover your bodies as soon as I call for them.”

“We'll be checking for possible traps again, Shacklebolt. Come on Sirius, show me your skills in Detection of Dark Arts.”

_I follow Severus. Kingsley and Caradoc need some time on their own. I wonder what it feels like to talk to your best friend again after all those years. Strangely I'm glad that I don't need to talk to James' ghost right now. It took some time to convince Caradoc, telling James that Severus and I have become friends would be nearly impossible. I smile bitterly at the sheer idea._

“What are you smirking at?”

“Nothing, just a bizarre thought.”

_Severus jerks his head and looks at me intensely. Then he smirks, too._

“Could you please stop looking at my thoughts, Sev?” _I grunt._

“There's no need to use Legilimency to guess your thoughts right now. You're amused by the idea of talking reason with Potter's ghost.”

_“ Do you think you know me so well by now? All right, I was thinking of having to talk to James.”_

“Hey Prongs, you see, now that ...,” _Sev starts in a mocking tone._ “everyone and I mean everyone is dead I may as well hang out with Snivelly. I hope you don't mind...”

“Don't be such a prat, Sev. _” I interrupt him._ “I would tell him right away and certainly not ask for his approval. …. I may have started the letters because everyone else is dead, but I want your friendship because... You're damn good company and I like spending time with you. By the way, you're pretty good at throwing sticks and don't pull on the leash too harshly.”

_Having said that I turn away and start casting detection spells at the cave walls. If he can't tell by now that I'm serious about friendship, I can't help it._

 

~Severus~

 _I don't know what to think of Sirius' statements but recognition has been a while in coming. And it's about time I take his words at face value. He did agree he started it for the wrong reason... and he really values my company this much? I want to sneer but find myself up against my own wall. The one that says be a man, accept your friend and start learning to trust him. Augh! I wanted this ever since Regulus died. Not Sirius, in particular. Someone who doesn't slip in my venom. I too am firing off spells of detection, and I swallow the bad smell that is lessened but stubbornly still there. Like Sirius is stubbornly still there. We work side by side in silence.  
_ “Ah!” _Sirius starts and I hold an arm in front of him, seeing a ghostly glowing green boat emerge from the water. This wants looking at. Careful how we look. The water ripples at the edge when I tread in it._

 _Sirius skips up to it_. “Use caution, mutt!” _I snarl at him._ “You're not endangering the life of my friend.”

_Sirius stares at me, a small grin appears on his face, and his features and form suddenly relax. How long has he held the tension?_

“After you,” _he says gallantly._

_I walk cautiously from bow to stern. It has a chain attached. This is what Harry thought of. A chill passes over me as I cast more revealing charms and mutter the obvious counter-jinxes and -curses. Sirius hears mine and mimics me but using his own variations. Regulus and Dumbledore met their death and this boat was part of the means. I want to hex it to pieces. Two people reduced to portraits, Regulus a mere sketch._

“Think it's safe to decimate? To attack?” _I ask the Defence master. I could not have picked a better teacher, I think._

“Attack?” _Sirius inquires with both eyebrows raised._

“This boat bore your brother to his ending. And Dumbledore, for all his faults a noble enough man. I wish to decimate this ill-fated creation of the Dark Lord's. It has one purpose: to lead a victim and a perpetrator. An altogether Dark object, I think.”

“ "I think it's safe to destroy. Together?” For once he's solemn.

“Together. Or do you think Kingsley will find us rash? I ask you about taking chances. We live in strange times, mutt. Three. Two. One _.” We pause, then:_ **“Confringo!”** _We both blast it to burning detritus, leaving a flaming wreck at the water's edge. Water doesn't halt these flames. Hermione would be pleased._

“More. _” Sirius says slit eyed. “_ More. Anything that led to...Regulus!”

 _I agree, could not agree more. But I hold up my hand. “_ Much more will bring this place down. If we disturb the centre no one will be able to recover the bodies.”

 _Sirius kicks at the ground. He sits on a rock and I stand beside him, one hand on his shoulder. Sirius doesn't flinch like I thought he would but leans against my hand. I read him wrong for a long time. Sirius regains himself and asks,_ “That spell. The counter-curse to Sectumsempra. What was that spell? Where did you learn it?”

“When I created the curse, the counter-curse came out of a spell I learned earlier. Healing magic of the type few wizards know and even fewer wandless witchcraft-users. I learned it from my Prince grandfather, your relative. I use it different ways. You have to know the spell, focus on it, no interruptions, be very aware of time and space. Muggles think it's their form of magic but they are wrong. Wandless users must be real witches and talented ones for it to work. My grandfather taught me the song from the time it was a soothing lullaby. I was meant to know this magic. It is rare to have this control, and I can't teach you. A wand is essential for me. The true Prince, Livius, could perform it without a wand.”

“I don't know much of your background.”

“I don't expect you to. I use it for different spells and counter-jinxes, hexes and curses, all healing. It is the only spell that is the best of magic, that it cannot be used in any way for wrong.”

_We are staring at each other. We stand and look about for more signs of magical tampering. There are not many revelations and I can't help feeling let down by the Dark Lord's lack of creativity._

_We return to hailing distance of Kingsley. Caradoc floats nearer to the bodies. I think that he might pass through me just to be a prat, but that's not what comes from him._

“Sorry to incapacitate you back there, Snape. Truly. I couldn't be sure you were not a foe. But I do not think you have fooled two such powerful friends.” _I'm taken aback._

“The Aurors are on their way, _” Kingsley informs us. That saves me from responding – but I do._ “Do not take away any more opportunities for me using my rapier wit, _” I smirk at Dearborn. He rolls his ghostly eyes and mimics Kingsley, saying “_ At last, the Aurors are on their way. _”_


	81. Sirus/Severus: Let's go to the pub

~Sirius~

_About ten minutes later we can hear the splashing sound of swimmers emerging from the water, followed by muttered drying spells. Harry, Ron and Percy Weasley enter the cave first and walk up to us._

_Caradoc hovers in front of Harry._

“Just like your father. I'm very pleased to meet you, Harry Potter. Kingsley has informed me about your defeat of Voldemort. Congratulations! James would have been very, very proud. I'm sure Sirius is.”

_Harry still gets embarrassed about such greetings and mutters a thank you. The ghost carries on._

“You were so little when I last saw you and James and Sirius were completely mad about you. Lily said she should put protection spells around you to make them leave you alone for a minute. Do you remember, Sirius? When you....”

“Harry has grown too big for me to carry him around all the time.” _I don't think Harry wants to hear any baby stories right now. Not here, not now and not when he actually looks a bit annoyed at the situation._

_Percy is talking to the Minister._

“Yes, I've informed the Muggle authorities as you wished. Officially we're undertaking an archaeological dig. Henderson is roping off the beach and Watkins is building a bridge to the Apparition rock. We should be able to start removing...,” _he swallows as he looks around._ “the remains …. in half an hour.”

“I have no doubt that you arrange all to perfection, Percy. Caradoc has offered to help us with a list of the names and where possible dates and causes of death. Some of the dead Muggles were very confused and some were as Sirius already presumed stolen from their graves. They just want to return without upsetting their relatives. The wizard relatives, however, will want to know what happened. Please write down the information Caradoc can give you. There is also a handful of Goblins and two Merpeople. When you're finished with the list return to the office and arrange appointments with their leaders to discuss how to return them to their people.”

_Percy bows to the Minister and gets out a piece of parchment to take notes. Caradoc gestures him to a corner where they can talk in relative peace and away from the bodies._

_Harry and Ron have used the time to take a look around. The look on their faces is very solemn. Have they thought I was exaggerating?_

“You have been right. Something should have been done about this.” _Harry says at last._ “That doesn't excuse you from walking into a trap without taking any precautions. I've warned you, Kingsley, you should have taken an Auror.”

_Harry may be talking to Kingsley, but he's glaring at us reproachfully. As if one Auror would have made a difference. I suppose he's thinking of one specific Auror. Offended that he hasn't been invited to the party? No, that would have been James' reaction. Harry is probably really worried about the Minister's safety._

_Kingsley smiles at his pouting Head of Aurors Office, but his tone leaves no doubt that he is not willing to discuss this matter any further._ “Harry, I appreciate your concern, but I don't need a flock of Aurors following me wherever I go. I can fend for myself and Sirius and Severus here also have a bit of experiencing in duelling.”

“Mostly in duelling each other,” _Harry snaps._

“Precisely Mr Potter, lots of experience from an early age,” Severus mocks slightly.

_ Harry obviously doesn't appreciate Severus' kind of humour as much as I do and rolls his eyes. I can't help grinning. _

_At this moment a wizard comes in to report that the bridge is built and they are ready to take away the prisoners. Harry glares at us and follows the wizard to do his duty. Other Ministry staff have started sorting the body parts and packing them into boxes. Harry and Ron have left with the prisoners. All people present have some job to do and I have to admit they work much more efficiently than I remember it from the past. The new rule has changed a few things in the Ministry. I start feeling a bit out of place. A look at Sev confirms that he feels the same. We should say goodbye to Kingsley who has joined Caradoc again. They are talking in a remote corner._

“Snape... Severus, Kingsley has told me briefly what happened since my demise. I can't say I understand everything, but I want to apologise for my harsh words at our first meeting. I would shake your hand, but my form of existence doesn't allow it. Let me say I'm glad you're.... one of us.”

_Severus tries to appear unmoved by these words of acknowledgement from a man he saw dying so many years ago. He inclines his head slightly to the ghost. There is no need for more words._

_Kingsley looks very satisfied with the outcome._

“You want to leave? Perhaps we all should go. There isn't anything left for us to do here. Caradoc will accompany me and stay at my house until his funeral. The organisation and talking to the relatives will take some time. I'll keep you informed.”

_People make way as the four of us walk over the magic bridge to the Apparition rock. We say goodbye and a moment later Severus and I stand in front of the Hogwarts gates. I wonder if the feeling of dizziness from Apparition will ever go away again. I don't feel like returning to the castle at once._

“Anything planned for the rest of this lovely afternoon, Sev? I've promised Rosmerta to drop in as soon as possible. We've missed lunch at Hogwarts anyway and I could do with one of her pies and a butterbeer.”

“I don't want to disturb your date with Rosmerta. “

“Date? Oh, c'mon, she's just a friend and her pies are still excellent. I always took a detour to rob her bins the year of the Triwizard Tournament. I tried not to make a mess in her backyard though.”

“She'll be delighted to hear that.”

“We don't need to tell her, do we? I'm not sure Padfoot didn't overturn them once or twice. He's just a dog.”

 _Severus smirks._ “I'm curious how you'll talk yourself out of that. Everyone has heard by now that you can turn into a large black dog. Rosmerta can count two and two together.”

_That was an agreement, wasn't it?_

_  
_

_~Severus~_

_Sirius grins at me and starts walking to the village. He's pretty much alone in that, no one has really grinned at me since the time of Regulus – and Lily and Evan. Most often Regulus. Regulus whose body was so pristine among the other dead, who was kept suspended in that bleeding cave, deep in that blasted cavern, hidden amongst rock and cliff. All down to the slit-nostril red-eyed bastard I called the Dark Lord._

_The wind is skinning and I see Sirius putting up the collar of his outer cloak. I copy him. We are wearing black cloaks with silver fastenings, both of us as if we were still students. No one could have predicted the present from those days. That gets me thinking of Regulus, Evan and Lily again. I keep my mind working on these scenes all the way into the village proper from the top of the High Street._

_Snow spatters us but turns to a drizzle of rain by the time we reach the door of the Three Broomsticks. Sirius breaks the silence. I assume he had scenes of the cave and the past, we think in oddly similar ways at times, and we know when to be silent with each other. Then Sirius gets this mischievous look on his face that would never appear on mine and that breaks my line of thought._

“Did I say Butterbeer and pie? What about Oak Matured Mead and a Cornish pasty?” _Sirius raises his eyebrows twice. What does that mean? I go on the defensive, as usual._

“You've obviously done a lot of deep and reflective thinking while walking here.” _I push open the door into the clean and shining Three Broomsticks. Sirius and I pretend to eye the curvy and attractive lady in her 50s who works behind the bar and put on an act as if to compete for her attention. She smiles and ushers us with shooing noises to a corner where we won't make a huge scene._

_We each carry a Butterbeer each back to the table. Neither of us really wanted mead. I'm sure our thinking is impaired by over-analysing already. That and we are already attracting stares._

_Sirius' face becomes impossibly serious. He says,_ “Yes, I did some thinking. About Regulus and our days so long ago when we were inseparable. About James and Harry. About you. And especially that cave, and why we found it in the first place.”

“Uncanny. I had similar thoughts. Regulus in my student days. The cave.”

“Care to elaborate?” _Sirius cocks his head to one side as he so often does, like a dog listening intently._

“Not now. Let me think.” _I growl it. I don't want to make myself vulnerable no matter how the trust level has increased, the friendship accepted. Besides, we're in public._

“Because you're never lost in thought.” _He mocks me a little. I take his words as an accusation._

“Do you want to open your mind so easily today? If so then you're not a mutt. You're a mongrel with mange.”

 _The mutt shakes his head._ “Well sorry, it's just you said how uncanny it is, our thought. I talked and you talked so I assumed we were talking.” _He's being so sarcastic I have to smile._

“We're surrounded by people who want to know what we think. We have a not so small audience here,” _I inform him. We must be an odd sight._

“Curiosity isn't a sin. Thank you, Rosmerta.” _Sirius tells the landlady for the Cornish Pasty and Chicken and Ham Pie – with a wink. She giggles, then marches away, clacking her heels. Soon we only hear our knives and forks and muttering about us slowly ceases. We're both so hungry we scarcely look at each other in the flashing of cutlery. The smell of the bodies is very faint but it's there in our clothes. Halfway through I can't touch another bite._

_Sirius notices I'm not eating and finishes his pasty in a hurry. Even mutts can be considerate. Just like his brother, arrogant but decent. Not nice, perhaps, but who needs nice when you have character?_

_We watch Madam Rosmerta went her way between her patrons, shooting us smiling glances and I try to discard the smell of death. It disappears into the mingled scents of tobacco and spirits that surround us. I look at Sirius as he lays down his knife and fork._

_Rosmerta's level-headed reason tinged with warmth is much more attractive than the reasons most pub-goers like her. I will even resort to chitchat if it comes to it. I catch her eye and beckon without a word._

 

_~Sirius~_

_Rosmerta has been busy serving lunch to the patrons, but she noticed we have stopped eating._

“I'm used to the headmaster eating like a bird. He's always been like that, no matter how much your brother tried. You used to have a healthy appetite, Sirius Black. I've got some of yesterday's meat pies left. I can put them on the lid of the bin if that's more to your liking.”

_She knows; Severus has been right. I try to look guilty._

“I'm sorry about that, Rosmerta... Rosie dear? I tried not to make a mess, but sometimes I was so....”

“Hungry? You looked like it. Why didn't you scratch at the back door like any clever dog? I'd have given you a bowl. I'd given you something decent in the kitchen if you trusted me. I've never believed the rubbish Fudge said about you.”

_Rosmerta looks around to make sure all her other customers are well served and content and sits down between us. I notice Severus casting a Muffliato under the table._

“You betraying James Potter and joining You-Know-Who? I've never heard so much bloody nonsense, except perhaps that Severus Snape has murdered Professor Dumbledore in cold blood as some people said. Being a landlady you get to know your guests and you two have always been good lads. A bit wild perhaps,” she says giving me a wink. “and desperately trying to look like a dangerous wizard, “ looking pointedly at Severus. “but good lads none the less.”

_I guess we both look rather dumbstruck, Severus certainly does. Not used to being called 'good lad'. Rosmerta continues,_

“And now I want to hear how you managed to come back. The real version, please. I know the Prophet story and then tell me what brought you here, together and obviously coming from a fight in times of peace.”

_Coming from a fight? We both look at each other and only now we notice that our robes are torn at places and there are a few singe marks from the Death Eaters curses. That explains why people have been staring at us when we entered._

_It's my turn first and I tell her about the veil as matter-of-factly as possible. Rosmerta smiles when she hears about us exchanging letters after my return._

_Severus explains very shortly about this morning._

“Will this madness never end? Haven't there been enough deaths and people sent to Azkaban?” _Rosmerta shakes her head sadly._ “You've really found the place where You-Know-Who kept his victims? One of my cousins disappeared during the first war. Do you think...?”

“The Ministry has a list of names. Shacklebolt will contact the relatives.” _Severus tries to sound unmoved, a sure sign he isn't. There are tears in Rosmerta's eyes. I put my hand on her arms and she leans against my shoulder for a moment._

_Only for a moment, then she rises abruptly._

“I've got to care for the other guests again. “

_We take our leave soon afterwards._

_~Severus~_

_We walk to the bar and Sirius tosses a few too many Galleons on the bar and winks at Rosmerta again._

“I was her favourite,” _I inform Sirius as we leave into that same drizzling rain. Sirius gives me a cocky look. I rephrase._ “Fine. I was her favourite when I was with Regulus. Either way, you can't dazzle her with your bombast. Or perhaps you can – she just waved.”

 _Sirius laughs and throws out his chest and walks with a strut, ruffling his hair with one hand._ “Remind you of anyone?”

“I'd rather not talk about James Potter when I can talk about the dead in the cave. Much more delectable topic.” _I smirk at him._

“You'll have to get used to James and Harry when it comes to me, sooner or later.”

“I understand that. You are going out on the town with the Chosen Potter after all.” _I can tell we're going to bicker all the way back to Hogwarts, and it will mostly be my fault. Then I think to talk about Rosmerta, but I'm interrupted._

 _Rosmerta shouts from the door of the Three Broomsticks_ , “Did you leave this?” _She waves Padfoot's leash and Sirius runs back to....fetch it. She hands him something else. My sketchbook I carry at all times has come out of my inner cloak and I can tell I've turned a horrible brick red. I don't often lose things but when I do it's stellar._

“Is this yours?” _Sirius says, waving the book after thanking Rosmerta and returning to the road._

“Yes. Hand it over.” _I'm snarling._

“When I've had a look. A sketchbook!” _His face splits in an evil grin and I take back what I thought about him being considerate. He opens it to see a picture of someone reading and I'm just good enough to tell that it is a picture of him, my considerate friend, my reformed Marauder._

“You haven't changed one jot, Black. **Accio sketchbook!** ” _It flicks out of his grasp and then I'm holding it._ “Do I look at your private belongings?”

“You make comments about Azidirachta Indica.”

“You remembered the proper name.”

“Neem shampoo aren't words I'd use around the esteemed Headmaster of Hogwarts.”  _Sirius uses a delicate tone._

_I look at him, wondering how deeply layered the sarcasm is._

_Rosmerta saved my sketchbook. And the leash that saved my skin. She was always open-minded and even-keeled when everyone around us – and including us – were dancing on Dumbledore's red hot coals and told it was the only road to take. His road, Dumbledores'. I don't have that much regret at his death anymore, but I wish I'd seen through him, I blame not being observant enough though I was as observant as it is possible to be._

“Brainwashed, the Order, weren't we?” _I ask after a walk for a mile in silence._

“So brainwashed. Two powerful wizards and two forms of controlling their minions. Were you ever more than a minion to either of them? I wouldn't know about your 'Dark Lord' but with Dumbledore, that's just the truth. He did honour Harry's purity. He did believe in something. But we all had to see his way or else we were dishonourable, rejected, despicable minions following unreasonable orders.”

_I think my own thoughts and he thinks his and soon we're walking through the grounds of Hogwarts and parting at the Entrance Hall. Sirius rattles Padfoot's leash as he wanders down the corridor away from me._

_He still has the strange, sheepish look he wore when he saw the sketch._


	82. Sirius/Severus: School Boys - Past and Present

~Sirius~

_I'm heading to my rooms. I really want to get rid of the soiled robes and take a hot shower. It's strange that Severus wastes his time drawing a picture of me reading. Reading? I wonder if he made caricatures of me hexing people or being hexed by him in the past. That's what I would have expected. We would have done such drawings of Snivellus rolling on the floor from a well-aimed curse if any of us had the talent. We would have shown them to everyone, having a good laugh._

_If he did, he hasn't kept them. Who keeps such rubbish for twenty years?_

_We both did. Kept a lot of rubbish from our school years. For good or bad we never let go._

_Lost in thought I wander the corridors and hear shouts, see flashes from behind a corner. As a teacher, I'm supposed to check._

_Students are standing in the corridor. Two are leaning against opposite walls, more sitting or lying than standing. Two others with their wands out glare at each other. The usual audience is watching and chattering about what happened._

_One is checking the spell damage on his classmate._

“We should get him to the hospital wing now. I can't figure out what hit him.”

“The damn Slytherin used a dark hex...”

“Yours wasn't any better.”

_They fall silent at my sight. No wonder they don't know how to lift the spells. By the look of it, different hexes have collided and created rather random effects on the casters. They all start shouting, blaming the other side to have started the fight and used illegal magic. I should get them back on their feet and send them to Poppy, but I'm tempted to settle that myself and prove to Severus that I know my subject. Inept attempts in Transfiguration cause really nasty effects. It's better you let the spell hit and undo the changes afterwards. After years of James trying to teach Peter the basics, I should know. I return the disfigured legs, hands and ears to normal._

_Then I pick the student who has shown a bit of reason by suggesting to go to Poppy._

“Tell me what happened.”

“Thatcher and Wakefield insulted each other's families. They always do. ...and then they tried to hex each other. Jenkins and Rothnie have cast counter spells..., “ _the boy shrugs pointing at the results._

_Great! What did Neville say? They know how to point their wands, but have no idea of the theory. The two at the walls, Thatcher and Wakefield I suppose, pull themselves up and rub the parts of their bodies which made contact with the stone walls and tiled floors. Next time their friends better cast cushioning charms._

“Mr Wakefield, Jenkins, Thatcher and Rothnie follow me to my office. Don't you others have better things to do on the last days of the holidays than standing in a cold corridor?”

_Jenkins and Thatcher exchange looks and follow, not too worried. Wakefield and Rothnie trot at the back._

_We enter my office and I conjure additional chairs to seat them all. The Slytherins whisper._

“Black isn't a real teacher, yet. Term only starts in a week. He can't give us detentions or take house points.”

“You can ask your Head of House to discuss the matter with Professor Snape if you like, Mr Rothnie.” _I say in the most friendly voice. The boy gulps and his friend gives him a nudge to shut him up. The two Gryffindors grin. Not for much longer as far as I'm concerned. I actually have a very different idea of detention than sending them to help Filch scrub floors. I remember their names from Neville's notes. He listed them as common troublemakers, 4_ _th_ _year, mostly harmless, but they get out of bounds every once in a while. They want to duel? Let's see, if I can make a lesson out of that._

_But first things first, I have seen Kreacher's ears flapping in the corner behind the bookshelves._

“Kreacher, four Butterbeer and a plate of biscuits, please.”

_It works, now they're really nervous. Kreacher carries out my order and disappears on a wink. The boys stare at the bottles in their hands and don't move. I push the plate with the biscuits towards them leaving them no choice. They slowly take one each and nibble nervously. Then they smile shyly. Kreacher brought some of his own._

“I suppose you're as interested in scrubbing as I was at your age. If you agree, you can assist me instead of Mr Filch. Next 4th year Defence class is on Monday morning. I want you to take notes of all the spells cast, what they were supposed to do and why they went wrong. Mr Jenkins and Mr Rothnie will make suggestions for blocking and protection spells which could have worked and you will explain in detail the counter and healing magic necessary to undo the damage. I don't expect written essays. You will explain it to your classmates and show them how to duel properly. I'll give you 20 minutes of the lesson and each of you can earn house points.”

_They look surprised and wary. Have I really say what they think I've said?_

“You mean I can hex Wakefield in front of class and get house points for doing it?” _asks Thatcher._

“You wish...,” _hisses Wakefield._

“Basically yes, but Mr Wakefield will, of course, do the same and you both better know your healing spells and hope that Mr Jenkins and Mr Rothnie improve their protective spell work. It's 10 points each – maybe more - for a perfect performance and correct analysis or none at all. Convince me that you can do more than misfiring hexes in the corridor.”

“That's impossible without practising,” _Rothnie protests showing a remarkable insight._ “I couldn't hear Jenkins' spell before it collided with mine.”

“Then I suggest you ask him which spell he used. It's called talking. From what I've heard an old method for successful teamwork.”

“You can't expect us to ….. work.... with THEM!” _They all cry out._

“Great! You have reached a first agreement. It gets easier next time. I'll expect you to be back here tomorrow afternoon at two o'clock with notes on the magic and a few ideas what you can do in class. Take another biscuit on the way. Goodbye.”

_They're too shocked to complain, but take Kreacher's biscuits before they leave._

“You're mad, Sirius. You know you are. I want a protective charm on my canvas when they start practising.”

“You'll get one, Reggie. Promised. You can help me tomorrow if you like. It will be fun.”

“I'm much more interested in the fun you'll have explaining that to Severus.”

_Hmmhm.... I don't think Severus will object. He wants them to learn practical magic and its consequences. That's what I'm trying to achieve. The Slytherins will cooperate because they took the bait with the house points and the Gryffindors won't let them look good at their expense._

_~Severus~_

_Regulus comes bursting into my office. Evidently, he sprinted because it takes a bit for a fifteen-year-old Seeker to pant that much. Behind him are two monks with self-transcribing quills and parchment. I suspect Regulus of wanting to quote me, do I? I am correct. When I tell the muttering monks to leave, Regulus looks pouty._

_  
_ “Sev. Just wanted to see if you and Sirius actually agreed on something real. And document it. For real. There must be some record made of how long good friends can dislike each other.”

“We agree that you're an utter pain. We agree that he teaches here, for me. We agreed without much forethought of tackling those who wish they were Death Eaters while trying to give closure to hundreds of people. What type of nonsense...”

“He just gave four students practical detentions.”

  
“As long as he turns them upright and lets them down come the week's end,” _I say with my nastiest smile. But my curiosity is piqued._

“What did they do? What does he have planned and whose house are they in? The names of the miscreants?” _I ask._

“Thatcher, Wakefield, Rothnie, Jenkins. Duelling and the houses are ours, and Gryffindor. They're pathetic at defence and worse at attack. Just like the Deputy Headmaster warned Sirius. He wants them to make a presentation on how to work the spells they duelled with properly and which healing spells to use. But wait...he wants them to co-operate in learning which spells hit who and discuss it and do a demonstration in class, with the idea of earning house points as an added bonus. Not just a presentation for him.” Regulus is smiling, or perhaps he's better at smirking than I thought.

“Slughorn might find that unusually equitable. I have no problem with that myself.” I shrug. My hair brushes my shoulders. Annoying, but I won't cut it like a common Roman soldier or a numbskull Muggle.

“I come this far this quickly and you say it's equitable?” Regulus had recovered from his rapid travel and sounds put out.

 “Slughorn uses that term, It doesn't occur often in my day to day speech. Sirius is right, you are a little idiot. Idiocy is a Black family trait.”

 “Tell Andromeda that. She'd love to get a chance to hex someone. Something to do after all that metamorphagus style childcare. She's on her toes.”

 “I have no problem with Sirius' choice of discipline.” I give a twisted smile at the thought of Andromeda. She would hex me. Then she would perform faultless counter-hexes. She always had a gift and at more than magic. Changing back to the first topic. “I agree and will back him should it be necessary. I was looking – before you interrupted – at the sketchbook I have had for so long. Where you originated, or your image. You know it.”

“I know it well. It's been a long time since I've visited the funny ones.”

“Funny? Caricatures and revenge, all of them but you and a few other Death Eaters. I sketched such a horrible Lucius. Ass kissing without even being aware of it. Admiration, it is sometimes called around saner people.” _I smirk and Regulus looks reminiscent._

“I wanted to be like Lucius from my first ever year, from before I was about to be Sorted. Whatever he said to do with Slytherin I wanted to imitate, be exactly what he told me I should be,” _Reg says._

“Some do whether they have the qualities or not.” _My eyes narrow but my lips smile. I can tell my eyes are glittering._ “Sirius had the qualities but for the wrong allegiance.”

“No doubt that we have the qualities,” _I hear Regulus from a distance. I am remembering the day I was Sorted._

“Severus! Sev! The planets call!” _I hear him distantly, lost in thought._ “Next time...” _Regulus clears his throat loudly,_ “...you go off to your own little world would you mind taking us along?”

_I jerk away from the sound of the portrait, then realise I am using a child's defences around a friend. I cast about for something else to talk about, unnerved. Old companions have me acting old ways, not necessarily a good thing._

_“_ Want to see the pictures of Sirius that survived? The 'caricatures and revenge' ones? The tamest is the reading one. I thought he was concealing smut with his Transfiguration text, now I think he was hiding the text behind the smut...”

“You bet, about the magazine. I remember some of these,” _Regulus croons as I flip the pages of the sketchbook in front of him. He cackles and points like a young boy._ “I remember that one!”

_The sketch shows Sirius pawing at his eyes, his hair smoking slowly from a very controlled Incendio, and me looking not daggers but rather hatchets at him, feeling my own hair. The oldest tale in the Snape library. Getting called greasy git._

_Oh, I remember too. Sirius had just used Scourgify on my hair “for the benefit of the public good” but trying to add in something else and it fell flat. When are they going to teach real spell theory in this school? With me as headmaster, it should have happened yesterday, but plans and reality often collide unpleasantly._

“To start on Sirius, he should have known that magic lessens across space, and immediate magic ought to be cast less obviously, and that magic is warped by time or enhanced by it, according to the preferences, intention and skill of the caster, and if he had paused a few seconds less he may have won that duel.”

 _Regulus laughs and snorts with glee._ “And in this case, know how the spell you use is pronounced! Every time. Usually, he did his homework. He tried the same curse as you used, the Conjunctivitis Curse. You sure had him there... that was fast spellwork.”

“I rather wondered what the second spell was. I had rather itchy eyes for a week and ended up seeing Madam Pomfrey behind the quad's backs. But he just proved Scourgify has no effect on my hair other than to dampen it. It is what it is and I don't bother to try more than one shower a day.”

“You started on the hair, not me...” _Regulus winks and I have a hard time concealing the frustration I feel with him, next he will be asking me if Lily loved me at all, in the slightest or the tiniest bit and I will swallow the answer and hex him to shreds. I think about my doe and its differences and think that it isn't quite as painful as usual. Regulus? He's a portrait of a boy and a Black and is nearly entitled to act like a dunderhead. But I have never had patience with young people. People in general. But I'm good at putting them to proper use, setting a task and making sure they do what they say._

_I'm thinking and Regulus is clearing his throat again._

“Like a Muggle trying to fly, talking to you without you wandering off...” _Regulus looks cross._ “Come on Severus, let's see the next sketch.”

“This one I want to share with Sirius.” _I have that glitter-eyed look again._

“You're kidding. These pictures? He'll jinx you.” _Regulus doesn't know his own brother. When did he have a chance to know him without interference? Not since he was ten years old. I feel a warning but I have to show Sirius this. I speak._ “Let him try. He won't jinx me. Or hex or curse me. Not when he sees this one.”

“Give me a preview?” _Reg wears a look of cunning and forethought._

“You're too busy running errands for Sirius to appreciate this, _” I sneer. Unnecessary but it adds to my mood and he deserves it for unasked questions._

_His reaction is both immediate and predictable._

“What? Bugger off – I'm your friend and a fellow Slytherin. And he doesn't tell me what to do. I came here of my own accord. Again, bugger off.” _He looks incredibly pouty. I can turn this into a search for Sirius that may be a good end to the day. I skipped dinner again. That happens. It's seven in the evening. He may even be heading this way._

“Fine, I'll show you, Reg. But you have to promise to fetch Sirius some time tonight and bring him here to look at the sketchbook.”

“All right. But just so as you know, I'm not Sirius' servant.” _Regulus is in the portrait of Phineas Nigellus, who remains stubbornly asleep. Just as well._

“Yes. Here we go.” _I open the book and there is a caption on this picture. A tall teen with long hair with his wand half way down from the accepted combative position. His eyes look blank, and he has evidently been hit by a Bogey Hex. This is all the more humorous as I believe that was one of his own invented spells. I was not the only creative mastermind at Hogwarts. He has the characteristic bat wings fluttering on his greenish, slimy face. But it has altered with the use of another spell, the Hair-Thickening Charm. Slimy whiskers, thick greenish eyebrows. Sirius thought it was my fault. Well, the Bat Bogey was my counter-hex and the Charm did not originate with me but was miscast by Pettigrew (who is shocked and anxious and took no credit) and which I deflected and hit Sirius … not on purpose. I meant to aim it at Pettigrew. The round little nobody with his halfway hexes. More dangerous than Sirius in his cringing. Fearful people are the ones you really have to watch for._

“Sirius won't like to see that. Not one bit.”

“Want to bet? Oh, wait... portraits have no Galleons. What a shock for a rich pureblood to be eternally broke. _” I grin nastily at him and examine the cuff links of the robes I just changed. Pristine._

“I bet Sirius gets really ticked.” _Regulus snarls at me after my attempt at humour._

“I bet he laughs. It will be a sign of how much water is under the bridge. Fetch him for me, though you are not my servant.”

“I can't wait to see you smeared across your desk by my brother.” _Regulus sounds proud of Sirius' hexing ability. We'll see. He turns from his borrowed portrait and is gone. Phineas seems to snigger in his sleep._

  _~Sirius~_

_Regulus is gone again. I'm starting to understand my parents' complaints about us. Cornish Pixies, free from the duty to make up for my misbehaviour he's much too lively for a dead portrait. So he's going to tell Sev? Fine with me, I can argue my point if necessary. Later...._

_Now I really want to get rid of those robes and take a shower. The Merman on the bathroom wall gestures to convince me to take a bath instead. Why not? Since I can't get rid of all those luxury potions without offending Kreacher I could as well use them. I stretch out in the tub and let the warmth and the fragrances surround me. The Merman was right the hot bath helps to forget the cold and the stench of death._

_I notice a few bruises and scratches from the fight, nothing that needs treatment. I've often been in a worse state after duelling with Sev in the past._

_It's so good to have a purpose and I don't really mind some excitement like this morning's fight. Being ambushed by idiots who fancy themselves Dark Wizards is not anything I should enjoy, but in a way I did. I like duelling no matter whether for real or for fun. Watching Sev's spell work is fun, even more, when we're on the same side._

_I've forgotten to ask Sev about the other potions Kreacher supplied. The bottles only have numbers on the labels, no description other than 'Bath additive' or shampoo. I've chosen number 2 for its nice colour. Its smell makes it hard to concentrate on anything but the pleasure of hot water on my body._

“Hey Merman, can't you find anything to keep yourself busy for a while? Counting the shells for example? I'd rather have some privacy.”

_The Merman smirks, much like Severus would. No, Severus wouldn't smirk; he'd give me a lecture about thoughtless use of potions supplied by an undoubtedly mad elf... then he'd smirk._

 

_*_

_Regulus is tapping his fingers against his frame._

“Where have you been so long? I've called you.”

“Goodness gracious, can't I use the bathroom without you?”

“For an hour? I thought of sending Kreacher in to check if you have drowned.”

“Thank you for not doing it. So what? Told the headmaster and now running errands for him?”

“I'm not running errands for anyone! Severus wants to see you tonight. Strangely he doesn't seem to mind your mad idea. He even has a surprise for you, memories of the old days....,” _he's grinning slyly._

_Memories from the old days? Not even my optimism is strong enough to think such a surprise can be nice. Reggie waits for me to inquire further, no chance. I can deal with my misdeeds... with most of them. It can't be undone anyway._

“Headmaster's Office or dungeon?” _I ask._

“Dungeon, I suppose. Severus hasn't mentioned anything else. He's not using Dumbledore's office very often, is he? The portraits complain about being locked out from most of the headmaster's business.”

“Have you met the old man, Reggie? Dumbledore, I mean.”

“Yes, I have. Phineas invited me over. Dumbledore sends you his best wishes and says he's very glad that you managed to return from the dead. He'd like to talk to you.”

“Does he?” _I reply very curtly._

“Your admiration for the 'greatest headmaster Hogwarts ever saw' has lessened over the years I notice.”

“You can only take so much of his kind wisdom. I still feel the after effects of the last overdose.”

_He sniggers and mutters something about totally unexpected flashes of insight._

_I don't care. At the moment I prefer a talk with the current headmaster. Regulus follows me on my way through the castle hopping from one portrait to the next. The students we meet giggle as he waves at them. Should I ask him to stop undermining my authority?_

_Severus opens his door at my first knock and invites me in. His rooms could do with a bit of Kreacher's design. Regulus settles in the portrait of a surly healer who looks very displeased by the unwanted invasion and leaves muttering to himself. The empty space is immediately occupied by our dear ancestor Phineas. I feel outnumbered three to one. As usual, Severus comes straight to the point._

“Your brother has told me about your first attempts in teaching. Do you really think you can make them work together? They're more likely to wreck your classroom. I will hold you responsible for any damage done to the school property.”

“I promise to protect the valuable antique furniture with my life,” _I wink cheerfully._ “You may call me an expert on detentions and I assure you that scrubbing floors or writing lines never had any effect on the juvenile delinquents. I want to try something new.”

“Honest work never had any lasting effect on you or your friends. You and Potter were special cases and if I remember correctly you even found a way to undermine the purpose of the punishment with magic trinkets like communicating mirrors.”

“Don't tell me you hadn't used them if you had the chance.”

“I didn't have anyone to use them with.” _Severus whispers almost inaudibly. Regulus looks insulted, but it is true. He rarely got caught. We both did our best to keep him out of the worst trouble._

_Severus himself rarely got detention for a number of reasons. First he, of course, didn't strut through the corridors hexing people for fun indiscriminatingly or rather discriminatingly and he obviously avoided to test his inventions on innocent classmates in front of an audience. I think we were his preferred guinea pigs and we hardly could be called innocent. James and I didn't care much about getting caught and James actually liked to perform in front of an audience._

_Then there was and probably still is the old tradition that detentions are only given when you are caught in the act. The serious incidents in our feud were done in secret, more so in later years, because James finally understood that Lily didn't like it. Nobody investigated even when all three of us reported at the hospital wing with various signs of spell damage and it was more than obvious what happened._

_Severus has been watching me and again he tries to second guess my thoughts. By the deepening frown on his face, I suppose he has come to the wrong conclusions._

“Are you wallowing in sweet memories of youth, Sirius? The golden days of the Potter-Black reign? Or was it Black-Potter? It was hard to tell who was the leader of your little gang. Yes, I think it was Black-Potter. Your brave friend even forgot to pick up his wand, when you weren't there to remind him. You really should have told him how to duel without your backup.....”

“Severus! Stop it! It's enough.” _I shout at him. “_ James is dead! It's over!”

_Severus' eyes glitter in malicious triumph. He knows where to aim. Words or spells, they always cut._

_How does he know? Harry has had enough sense not to mention that detail in the official report. I thought nobody knew except me and Harry who had seen the truth in Voldemort's memories. Their wands lay on the living room floor, glowing faintly from the shock of the ancient magic that destroyed Voldemort's body and half of the house. I put James' wand in his hands when I folded them over his chest. Nobody should know about it!_

_Voldemort must have told the tale for the Death Eaters' amusement!_

“I hope you had a good laugh when he told you that James Potter died like a Muggle!"

_Severus' face turns pale. He had not laughed, not when he thought of Lily. We both have instinctively reached for our wands when I started shouting, not raising them. I should perhaps tell him that I know he didn't rejoice in the death of anyone, that I know he tried to save them all in the end. He shouldn't have said that about James. James was a capable wizard; he just wasn't himself after the months of house arrest. I seek Regulus with my eyes. 'Say something, help us....'_

_Severus stares into the empty space behind me, his lips pressed together._

_Regulus groans loudly._

“You call yourself grown-ups? Five-year-olds in a sandbox, that's what you are! Put your wands away and turn on your brains!”

“Shut up! You don't understand!” _Shouting at the brat unites us in an instant._

_Regulus laughs and we can't help grinning sheepishly at the absurdity of the moment. What are we fighting about?_

“It wouldn't have made a difference....”

“No, it wouldn't. They didn't stand a chance after Peter's betrayal. Nobody except Harry has survived Voldemort's Killing Curse.”

_There's a moment of silence until I try to explain quietly._

“Look Sev, James was my friend. I'm not saying he was a wonderful person, but he was a good friend.... to me. I've tried to keep his blunder secret.” _I raise my hands in helplessness at the twitch of his mouth._ “Yes, I know it was idiotic! I have no idea what he was thinking of trying to stop Voldemort unarmed. Probably too shocked to think.... He couldn't have stopped him anyway. Neither could one of us. We both tried, each in his own way to save them and we both failed....”

“A good friend to you,” _the bitterness in Sev's voice is barely disguised._ “I'm probably expected to kindly understand that you still regret to be left with just me and a sketch of your brother. Poor replacements indeed.”

_I open my mouth to tell him that he really is an idiot, but the bored voice of Phineas cuts me off._

“Severus, I usually agree with your judgement, but this time my younger grandson is right. You are acting like five-year-olds. No surprise with my older grandson. Sirius is....” _He mercifully spares me the words to describe what he thinks of me._ “but you Severus should know that whatever else he is, Sirius is a Black. We Blacks don't go for poor replacements. Only the best is good enough for us.”

_I can't help smirking and Severus does too._

“Only a Black can present pureblood arrogance as a virtue.”

“Only a Snape can miss that Phineas tried to make you a compliment.”

_As quick as our anger has flared up it has dissolved. That's how it is among good friends, isn't it? I settle in one of the armchairs by the fire._

“Regulus said you wanted to show me a surprise.” _I express my curiosity._ “More reminiscences from our adventurous past? Do you think we'd better lay down our wands to avoid damage to the school's and your private property?”

“I won't part with my wand and give you the chance to knock me out the Muggle way, Black.”

_I follow Severus' eyes to the sketchbook on his desk. He really did drawings of his hexes? And kept them? I prepare for a good measure of embarrassment. Some things would have been funny from a distance. Are 25 years distance enough?_

_At least I want to know what my brother is giggling about so gleefully._

“Reg said you'd hex me to pieces for a few of them.”

 _I shrug._ “I've most likely already done that as soon as I got back from Poppy. C'mon, show me your trophy collection.”

_The sketches are animated and Severus has an eye for the funny details. There's one where I'm hopping up and down without any obvious signs of a cause, my face screwed up in a mixture of pain and fury._

“That toenail growing hex, isn't it? You got me every time with that one until we found out the counter spell.”

_Severus grins with pride, rightfully so. The curse was effective. It lasted for quite some time unless stopped and if you didn't get rid of your shoes quickly, it really hurt._

“How did you find out?” _Severus throws a suspicious glance at Reggie who protests immediately._

“Wasn't me! I kept your secrets!”

“No, it wasn't him. Reggie never betrayed you. We overheard it by chance.” _I hurry to turn the pages. It was Lily who has never been discrete about Severus' spells. She helped Remus after Sev had hexed him and we listened eagerly to every syllable of the counter spell._

_James nearly strangled by his school robes, me with my tongue hanging down about 15 inches, some things do look funny after all those years._

_There's another where I look like a cross-breed between a walrus and a ghoul. At first sight, I'd said that Sev used my own variation of the Bat Bogey, but that doesn't explain the hair._

“Enlighten me, what was that curse? You only used it once.”

_Severus looks at Regulus triumphantly. Regulus sticks out his tongue._

“To be honest it was an accident. Pettigrew tried to curse me, it messed up with my counter curse and hit you. But you're right it looks quite interesting. I should have investigated the effect of the two curses combined.”

 _I raised my hands in mock defense._ “Investigate whatever you want, but not on me again. I spent three days in the hospital wing and Poppy called in Minerva to sort it out.”

“You deserved it.” _Severus is enjoying this. He turns a few pages and shows me a really nasty sketch, purple boils and blisters all over my face. My painted self looks very unhappy._ “Who did this? I thought it was Regulus since it was a rather difficult curse which I didn't share with the others.”

“It wasn't him. You shared that curse with at least one more person. Much to my dismay....”

 _Severus looks at me with disbelief._ “She wouldn't.... not Lily. That was a dark curse.”

“No need to tell me it was dark. It took weeks to fully heal. She overreacted to a joke.”

_I hurry to go on with my explanation, because Severus does look very angry._

“Calm down, it was really just a joke and excuse me for saying that she deserved it. Do you remember that Muggle fashion magazine she carried around in early 5th year? The one with the modern short hair cuts?”

_A deep, exasperated moan from Reggie confirms that he remembers and Severus also makes a painful grimace. I grin sheepishly._

“She wanted to know what she'd look like with short hair and I showed her. I used Zonko scissors. She screamed like hell and hexed me before she realised that her pigtails grew back.”

 _Reggie is shaking with laughter._ ”I'd loved to see her face. I'm sorry that you paid so dearly for doing all of us a great favour. Severus, you said you'd sent flowers to the one who stopped that nonsense. Zonko scissors! I should have thought of that.”

“I'd killed you had she told me,” _Sev mutters through gritted teeth._ “and sent the flowers to your funeral.”

 

_~Severus~_

  _I am glad Sirius put an end to Lily's obsession with popular Muggle boy haircuts. I never want to think about Sirius and Lily as friends, as if there is some nasty connection between the three of us, and there is still, though Harry. The man – hard to think of him as a man – is such a source of annoyance to me, we two a type of star-crossed enemies, on the same side. Lily's little stag. Sirius' little stag._

 _Sirius stops yawning at the look on my face._ “What's eating you. Severus? So suddenly?Maybe I'll leave …it's about time, almost midnight. Reggie, come with me, and let's let Severus Rest In Peace.” _Regulus nods. I can hear the sardonic capital letters as he speaks with his half-smile. I can´t do much but nod my head. I ask myself if I must let Lily rule my life at all anymore. The honest answer is yes. But hearts are made to contain more than one person._

_Friends have a place, and Regulus slips out of the ugly, brooding healer's portrait frame and Sirius slips silently with a nod through the door I bring down my head to rest with a fist pressed next to it. Then I realise I look like Rodin's sculpture of the Thinker and, all I know Phineas is about to mention it. He interested me in the wizard's art in the first place. No, I don't want to speak with Phineas. I raise my head and glare at the wall. He's hanging there._

“Are you still deep in thought? You mutter in your sleep, you know. I wonder if the topic is still delicate with you and your pet Mudbl-- _” Phineas Nigellus Black and his lovely terminology._

_I silence him with a glare so potent I think it could make paint curdle like milk, I was about to think of the damn doe again and that's what I remember of sleep. There are more important things._

“Do not use that term with me!” _I snap._ “I was thinking about the underground lake and its inhabitants, not dreams, whoever they might feature.”

“By the way, your cat has been annoying me, she climbs on the shelf and scratches at my frame. She will soon ruin a superb work of art.”

 _I suddenly notice the scratches and I smirk at him._ “She's good for something then – aside from being the best mouser in the castle.” _His thin eyebrows raise and his look of annoyance is so present that I promise to train her out of it. Phineas calls Alexi and she slinks around the corner of my desk and walks past with a slightly arched back_

_Zara always keeps an eye on her. He has never trusted her. He doesn't want to end up being another version of an owl treat. The cave and thoughts of it rise in my head, being trapped by the wasting spell that fed on my magic, the way it leeched my doe--_

_Good thing Sirius has a sensible head. Phineas closes his eyes and does not reopen them. One thing I value in a friend is their common sense, uncommon as it is. Despite Sirius being ever the Gryffindor, he has a good head on his shoulders. Alexi hops onto my lap very lightly. She hardly occupies space, she is small and sleek and a good hunter. She stares for a moment, then curls on my lap._

_The room is full of animals. Should I investigate another? The one I saw crumble, blackened, the wounded Patronus? She will be light again. I know her well, but to see her as leading me on a quest is I admit a potent idea._

_My wand slips into my hand again. Sirius yelling at me about the wandless James Potter makes me feel slightly ashamed. Could my doe have led her too? Could I have protected Lily with my own doe? I was attempting not to interfere other than through Dumbledore, who always shooed me away from direct assistance, even indirect. Keep my eye trained on the Dark Lord instead. He was disgusted that I ask that Lily be spared, yet would he not have done the same?_

“We fools who love, _” he said, over and over. I whisper other more important words through the silence as if speaking the spell aloud could make this more solemn._

“Expecto Patronum.”

_Phineas is asleep again, or pretending._

_The silver doe dazzles me with her brilliance, shining like the moon spread into the shape of a female deer. Her head is always lifted into the air, true to the picture in that dratted book, and I notice that her eyes have an intensity I do not at all associate with Lily._

_Zara is hooting softly and her eyes seem even more round than is natural. But Alexi is not disturbed. She just lays her head on my knees, and I feel her purrs vibrate through my robes._

_The doe and I have an understanding. She is original, mine alone, and I thought her value lay in her likeness when her power lies in being genuine. She is more than that picture or Lily's doe, she is hope made of the power of magic itself, ancient magic, purest protective magic._

_She led Harry Potter on his quest, why not mine? I reach out a hand and she vanishes. I smile as I strip and put on my nightshirt, and give Zara fresh water. Then I crawl into bed, and Alexi curls by my feet. I feel warm as though the doe were here too. Perhaps it is better than to be with a memory, to be alone – alone but for a few friends._


	83. Sirius: Pillow Talk with Portraits

~Sirius~

_Regulus accompanied me back to my quarters. He was quiet, lost in thought. He hasn't mentioned this morning's events at all. The cave is something in his future. He knows the facts, but like it happened to somebody else._

_I'm not really tired, too much is going on in my mind, practical things like how to deal with the students and all the memories and feelings Severus' sketches raised. And Regulus, of course, my all too lively dead brother._

“Sirius, are you going to bed? May I come ….?”

 _Old habits die hard. We're a bit too old for that, aren't we? He'd stopped sneaking into my bed years long before he was drawn, long before I left._

“Sure, if you're content with the bedside table. Your frame is a bit edgy.”

“Bedside table is fine.”

_I put him there and go to the bathroom to undress. I'm glad that Kreacher insists on providing pyjamas, even if they usually remain unused. I put on the trousers. Living with a portrait adds a bizarre quality to life._

_I snuggle in bed my face turned to Reggie and douse all candles except the one next to him._

“Put that one out, too. Let's pretend I'm real and it's like it was in the old days.”

_Pretend he's real. He's too real already and too unreal at the same time. The portrait magic plays tricks on us. Regulus' portrait is like we remember him, frozen in time, untouched._

_It's so easy to forget that he's only a portrait. If he lived, had it been possible for us to be together like this again? He was a loyal Death Eater, as loyal as I was an Order member. If he never found out about the Horcrux, had he been with Evan when the Aurors killed him? Or had he accompanied Bella and Barty to torture Frank and Alice?I can imagine the first, but not the latter. I don't want to imagine the latter. I'd gone mad if he ended up in Azkaban._

_He could have wiggled out like Lucius, like Nott. Even Bella and the gargoyles managed to pass the Wizengamot at first. Or would my crime have condemned him, too?_

_I can't imagine him lying to the Aurors. He'd laughed in their faces like Harry said Bella did. On the other hand, he's a Slytherin. He knows how to save his own neck.... to a point. Even I wasn't really sure that he had joined them, not that he joined so early. Why didn't mother and father stop him? Made him finish school first?_

_He took my place._

_Had he been spared, if I had stayed at home?_ _Could I have kept him away from the Death Eaters?_

“In the old days you'd have come through the service lift and brought milk and sandwiches and mother would still be ranting downstairs until father fled to his study.”

 _Regulus ignores my comment._ “You went to the cave this morning, you and Severus? I'm glad that it is taken care of, that the others will get their funerals.... It was horrible, wasn't it?”

“Hmhem,” _I grunt._

“You don't want to talk about it, not with me?”

 _I sigh._ “No, I don't want to talk about it. Not tonight and not with you, you shouldn't worry about it. Kreacher's love spared you the fate of the others. You've never been one of them. They will get decent funerals. Kingsley will see to it and Caradoc's ghost will help him.”

“Caradoc Dearborn? I remember him. He was a bit older than you and played seeker in my first Quidditch match.” _I can sense slight amusement in his voice, jumpy mind of a teenager._

“I'm sure you remember very well. It was the only match you beat us.”

“Not quite, Phineas said we've beaten Gryffindor and won the cup in my 7th year, too. I so much wanted to play against you, but you chickened out. Caradoc wasn't a real challenge. I would have loved the catch the Snitch before you.“

“Are you sure you'd have won if I played? I showed you a few tricks. What makes you think I taught you all I knew?” _I gladly take the opportunity for a light-hearted topic._

“Grab the pillow and whack yourself over the head, you arrogant prat. I can't do it.”

“Bad luck,” _I chuckle. I wish he could do it._ “I did not chicken out. I was in detention. Believe me, I'd rather played against you than scrubbing the desks in the Potion classroom.”

“Why didn't you? Potter let loose the Pixies in Slughorn's office. Everybody knew it was him, but you had to step up and say it was you, you alone. “

“James was team captain. We couldn't afford to miss him. Better me than him.”

“Mum and Dad were so disappointed. They came to watch us. They had asked for permission to take us to Hogsmeade and I had all the strawberries and cream to myself.”

“It sounds like a perfect day for you and them. A Slytherin victory and no need to bother with the obnoxious brat who happened to be their eldest son.”

“Don't be such an idiot, Sirius! They came to see us, both of us. Father even asked Potter to look for you, when we couldn't find you after the match.”

_James didn't mention it when he found me. He probably forgot about it in his anger about the lost match or thought I wouldn't want to celebrate Gryffindor's defeat with my family._

_Would I? I don't know - probably. I was proud of Reggie's performance. We had so much fun practising in the backyard that summer. I had taught him all my tricks and I really wanted to play against him. James wasn't happy that I spent so much time at home. I would have joined them for Hogsmeade. I was angry that James spoiled my own 'match of the day', the duel with Sev. It was a draw until James interfered. I didn't want nor need his help! Did Severus tell Reggie about it? I don't think so. If he knew, he's mentioned it. I doubt that Severus realised that the interference wasn't planned, that I wanted it to be a fair match. He wouldn't have believed it. Maybe he would now._

_I'm getting sentimental. Part of me wants to believe Reggie, but I know it wouldn't have worked. Mother and father didn't really want me to join them for Hogsmeade. They'd only tried to find me to do Reggie a favour._

“I don't need your kind lies to comfort me. I don't care anymore. They never came to see my matches. They didn't care about me. Why should they want to see Gryffindor win? I don't like strawberries anyway.”

“Of course, they cared. Father had Uncle Alphard retell every single match you played. They took count of every single house point you won and I never could match your score. They were so proud of you, even when they didn't show it.”

“Proud? Of me?” _I can't help a bitter laugh._ “ It was only natural for a Black to excel in magic, all in the blood! That's what she always said when I had learned a new spell and tried to impress her. I gave up trying before I even went to Hogwarts. It was all only means to her ends. I was only means to her ends, proof of pureblood supremacy. Sure, they gave me all I could wish for, all money could buy and magic could do, but not for love, only because it befitted the Heir of the Ancient and Noble House of Black to have the best of everything. I only wanted a bit of freedom, fresh air and friends to play with. Friends who didn't know or care about the family tree. Trained, fed and groomed for mating with a nice pedigree bitch and produce more pureblood offspring. That's all I meant to them and why I left in the end. I couldn't even talk or go out with a nice girl I liked without checking her ancestry because if she met the requirements, Mother had been getting ideas. If they had a choice, they'd chosen you and been happy with the 'good' son!“

_There's a small pause while Regulus makes up his mind whether to go for the bitter taunt or not. He decides to ignore it again._

“You were interested in girls from decent families … maybe even Slytherin girls?” _he jokes._

“No need to giggle like that. Not all Slytherin girls were like our dear cousins. I might have been interested in one or two, but they were off limits. I couldn't risk getting to know any of them better, without mother making arrangements with their parents.”

“Or Potter throwing a fit...”

“Don't be absurd. James didn't give a damn about blood status.”

“Only about houses. I imagine what he had said if you had brought a Slytherin pureblood to a double date with him and Evans.”

_I have to laugh at the thought._

“Probably not the best idea. My love life was none of his business! It wasn't anyone's bloody business! Mother and father actually did me a favour when they disowned me. From that day on I could be sure that a girl smiled at me and not at our Gringott's account or the family tree.”

“Oh really, Sirius! Gold and name were only a nice bonus. You weren't penniless anyway. Uncle Alphard left you a considerable fortune as mother pointed out when she burnt him from the tree. She always hoped you'd come back for need of money, but he destroyed the last hope with his legacy.”

“Hardly anybody realised how much money I still had. I preferred Muggle girls anyway. They didn't know about the whole nonsense and they didn't expect marriage after a dance and one kiss. ”

“Father would have agreed with that as long as you didn't leave them with child.”

“Trust me I listened to those parts of his teachings. I wasn't interested in anything serious. It was rarely more than a dance and a kiss.”

 _Regulus laughs again._ “I know, but you were really good at pretending. Father believed you were only dating Muggle-borns to annoy mother.”

“He never understood that I don't care for blood status, neither one way nor the other. I was looking for someone special. I tried to explain it to him before I left, but he didn't listen. They never listened to what I said.... ”

“It was hard to listen to the words when you and mother were shouting at each other. I wasn't the only one who missed you. You broke her heart when you ran away for nothing. She left all your things untouched. I'm sure your room was exactly like you left it when you came back. Kreacher said she waited for you until her dying day.”

“If she wanted me back, it was only because she couldn't break the entail. I was the heir not matter how much she wished it was you! But there was no reason to worry. I never intended to interfere with your legacy. I never wanted the name or the house or the money. All I wanted was that she accepted me the way I am. That was asking too much, wasn't it?”

“You drove her mad for worry when you sneaked out of the house to meet those Muggles. How many times did you come home with blood on your shirt and sore knees? In your first year at Hogwarts Professor McGonagall sent thirteen owls to inform us about your misdeeds or your injuries. Mother started to flinch every time she heard an owl hooting. She yelled at you because if she didn't, she'd cried.”

“Next you'll be telling me it was all my fault. I couldn't get anything right in her eyes! Nothing I tried was ever good enough! She was only worried about the Statute of Secrecy or family honour and about you of course. Worried that I get you into trouble, worried that her little darling got hurt when he was with his good-for-nothing brother. As if I ever let you....”

“You were jealous, you stupid prat? You still are? As if I ever was anything other than Sirius' little brother. To mother or to anyone else! Nice and kind and easy to handle and approachable when you refused. You never had any reason to be jealous. You have been her favourite!....................... Mmmother!!!!????”

_At his desperate cry I light my wand. She is there, in his picture, the beautiful young woman from father's locket which I dropped on the bedside table and forgot. Her hand is on his shoulder; tears are in her eyes._

_Her fingers brush through Reggie's hair. He looks at her and sobs. Her eyes are set on me. I bite my lips. Her lips move without a sound._

_Regulus has grabbed her hands. I wish I could, too. All I can do is touch the parchment with a finger. They both smile. Suddenly Regulus lets go, turns around and starts searching for something. I watch him with apprehension. He pulls the piece of paper and the quill he first used to communicate out of a corner and presses the quill into her hand. She stares at it, slowly comprehending. Her hand is shaking, unused to the exercise, trying to remember the letters, the words, the meaning. She draws the disjointed letters like a small child, often pausing, trying to concentrate._

“......my ….brave lion............my cunning snake... love you! BOTH!”

_I wish I could put my arms around her like Reggie has done like I wasn't allowed to do since I was barely five. Strong, determined, unyielding, that's what she's always been on the outside. That's what she expected me to be. 'Birds of a feather,' Grandpa Arcturus called us. 'too much alike to get along.'_

“Love you, too, Mum.” _I whisper._

_It is suddenly so easy to understand each other without many words, without yelling._


	84. Severus/Sirius: A new morning and old nightmares

~Severus~

Zara wakes me at five o'clock with a loud hoot. I'm still immersed in half-dream, half-memory. I let the feeling of bitterness wash over me, wishing I could forget the images in my mind. It wasn't a dream. I don't often remember dreams. When I do they generally have a basis in fact. I sit up slowly as if waiting for the memory to fall into my pillow. Nasty thing, the mind, but it can be tamed. I know how to chase such images safely out of the way in case some dolt attempts Legilimency on me. I am not upset because it is a bad memory. I am irritated by the fact that it was a good one.

Zara rustles her wings and puts her head under beneath her feathers. She's used to the snarling. I let the images play through my mind and allow the cinema of pain to play.

I was thirteen. I had crept out of bed early to watch the television. My father had spoken of the Cokeworth FC match the night before. I had avoided him, I feared him, respected him, and had a hate-love kind of match of my own going, where my players were cutting words and magic and his were intimidation and the most callous love. The kind that grates. But he came down after me, followed my steps five minutes later, and saw I was watching the replay of the game I missed. He actually ruffled my hair. The hair he hated because I inherited it from my mother's side. He did not much like magic because he was incapable of it and felt I had an edge over him. But he ruffled my hair. I denied it happened because it made things too close. He said that he was glad that I took after him, “if only in football.” I couldn't really believe he said that. He was supposed to be impossible to please. I kept that image, didn't take him at his word, continued to think we could never agree.

Muggle. 

Does it matter? To sentimental fools such things matter. And I am a pure fool. And I don't wish to think I grew up to have his traits.

I decide to shake the image and feeling of a rough hand gently making me tousle-haired by prowling the corridors and classrooms and nooks and crannies as is my custom. Alexi is still on my ankles. I pull my feet away and she just goes back to sleep.

I want to do something to erase my mind that doesn't tamper at all with coherence. No potion or herb quite does that. I need to get out! I need to move. Sitting still is no answer. Stripping down to nothing I ignore the cracked bathroom mirror and soon hot water is spraying me. I close my eyes. Scourgify my mind, water! I switch to cold and leap out, smirking. Clears my head every time.

After my shower I slip into the usual black robes. Familiarity breeds contempt, they say, but I have no contempt for black robes or Regulus...or Sirius. I am familiar with the Black family and what they mean. Purity in the veins might mean trouble in excess? I don't believe the pure-blood creed. But I don't deny family traits. Though there is some subtlety, in general, what you see is what you get. I'm distracted, but I still feel my scalp tingle. A good imagination is not for the weak.

 

I am nearly through my winding path from the dungeons to the North Tower's landing when the sun breaks out of an east-facing window. I feel the cold air pressing against the glass, trying to get in. I play mental mockery. I make my way down through the castle's unmistakable sounds of waking students and faculty.

Soon I'm walking by wide-eyed students who wish to avoid me and I am glad of this effect, as solitude is better than contentment and contempt is better than the miserable ease of living the self-evident. I enter the Great Hall from the chamber behind and take my unfortunately prominent seat. Good. Sirius is near me, and on my other side, Minerva and Neville. The very rare, the respected lions.

 

Halfway through toast and tea I notice Sirius' hand straying to his neck quite often, touching the locket around it. Not pressing hard and not terribly obvious, but his hand seems to be drawn as if by magnetic force or a Summoning Charm. I can tell at once it is a memory tormenting him, Sirius being perhaps even more of a purely sentimental fool than I am.

I noticed several places on my journey this morning that Sirius might find of interest. Changes from his years here. I also have a nose for unlikely places, just as Harry Potter does. The difference is, I make use of them without charging in, I tread with caution. And one use is to distract Sirius, who needs something to distract him. Just as I do. Two birds with one stone, a minor exploration excursion, something to pass these tedious pre-term days, or one day at the least.

I catch up with Sirius when he leaves the table, and hiss at him to meet in the staff room in half an hour. He stares at his gold watch and nods, and I give him a brief instruction. “Be quite as prepared as you were when we entered the cave.” I need to move!

He raises his dark eyebrows and gives me that grey look. That Azkaban look, the deadened and hollow stare. I won't have him making me guilty. “We'll go easy at first. I want to explore one or more places with you, more if you have the inclination. I know how keen you are to roar your lion's throat raw.”

He smiles and nods and turns toward the marble staircase. I propel myself downstairs, attaching my wand to my arm again, one wrist movement from action. I take some Ditanny and a bezoar, and some other basic potions and ingredients. The Draught of Peace I hope will not be necessary. Sirius wouldn't break down, as long as there is adventure to be had. He keeps a good head. He always has, though maybe it's learned by force. I scan my rooms. No animals left behind. Good. Padfoot included.

Walking upstairs, I brush into a nervous Ravenclaw, not watching where I step at first. I'm generally observant and I snarl at her. Force of habit. What is she doing down here anyway? Thereafter I keep my eyes looking ahead of me and not in the clouds. My imagination works just fine on the ground, and I'm wondering about what became of the DADA classroom last I used it. The Carrows and those that followed did not go near the place. I had Theo Nott convinced it was guarded by Inferi, and word caught like wildfire. The Carrows were squealing piglets of cowards, and very afraid of me.

I have been pacing exactly the right number and length of steps it takes to walk down the final corridor where Sirius should be waiting. I open the door and there he is, looking tired and not as playful as the jumping hound I am accustomed to. I won't press questions.

“Sirius,” I say, snapping the door shut and facing both him and the ugly mismatched furniture. “Would you care to see where your future classroom is?”

“Not more Inferi thank you,” he snaps at me. It's amusing watching his face work until it settles into the darkened lines etched by Azkaban again. Then it's not amusing.

“Nott has done a very good job,” I say very quietly and clearly.

“What...not?” Sirius looks confused.

“Not whatnot. Theodore Nott, a student. I set him the task of spreading that rumour.”

Sirius goes from sullenness to amusement in a millisecond. He's stubborn about most things, but he has a sense of humour. He can appreciate such subterfuge as he is past master at it.

“What is waiting then?” I'm pleased to see him grin.

“I have yet to see. We have yet to see. Shall we?” I open the door into the deserted corridor and open my hand toward it. Sirius' eyes have that glittering glimmer. I can tell mine do as well. He steps out first, and I follow. 

 

~Sirius~

_A tour on the castle, why not? Anything to get me distracted will do. Things have changed since my school days. The castle has magically rebuilt itself after the battle, slowly one room after the other, depending on their importance. Several areas which were not in use for years are still in ruin. A few classrooms and teachers offices are on different floors than they have been, I have been warned by several people not to have a look at my classroom. Severus has been getting sentimental about his realm and didn't want Amycus Carrow or any of his successors to use it. I should feel honoured that he seems to be willing to let me in, but there has been a certain gleam in his eyes. I expect a kind of test or trick. I'm not too worried. I know a good deal about protective wards and I think I know a bit of Severus' style. I don't expect any kind of Dark Arts and nothing that could seriously endanger students. That won't make it easier._

_At the door I notice that Severus tries to keep his distance._

“Are you giving me a clue or will I have to go through all revealing spells first?”

_He smirks._

_I cast the first test spell and just manage to jump out of the way before a squall of.... bouillabaisse hits the floor._

“To Filch with love.”

_Severus vanishes the puddle. Only a faint smell of garlic and fish remains._

_I look from Sev at the door and back. His smirk is mixed with expectancy. Let's try logical thinking, something he appreciates. The door wards react to the simplest magic. I put away my wand. Sev's smirk turns into a grin._

“Tell me whether I'm on the right track or not. It's something most wizards can't figure out, especially no Dark or Purebloods. It's something Muggle, a password.”

“It's not a password.”

_All right, a Muggle lock.... logical.... a puzzle, let's see. I search the carved decorations for something unusual, movable and find a tangram. One of my girlfriends loved doing tangrams. She spent hours rearranging the geometrical wooden blocks to new figures, men, women, animals. I remember a few simple figures._

_The little snake has Severus laughing at my failure._

“How very original, Black and so fitting for your classroom.”

_I arrange the blocks to a small tail-wagging dog. The lock clicks loudly. I open the door._

“After you, Headmaster.”

I follow him at his heels and whip out my wand to open the shutters and all windows. The air is fuggy after three years. 

“Good Merlin! Sev, you weren't teaching firsties in here? Excuse me,” _I remove the horrible sketches of cursed witches and wizards from the walls._

“They need to learn the truth about the Dark Arts,” _he repeats the stubborn sentiment I've already disagreed with when he offered me the job._

“They won't learn anything from nightmares.”

“What are you planning to do? Let them wrestle Grindylows and Hinkypunks and catch Cornish Pixies? Or teach them how to turn Boggarts into clowns?”

“Hinkypunks and Grindylows kill more people per year than Dark Wizards' curses. Maybe I'll have to teach some of them how to turn Boggart clowns into Zombies to make them laugh. Did you know that many Muggles think clowns are scarier than the walking dead? Severus, you promised to let me try my way.” _Does he really still think I'm taking the job as a joke? I am not and I'm going to show him. He has received a rough draft of my intended curriculum. I really need to get to know the students better, before I can decide about the details. For the moment I suppose the Darkest threat we are dealing with is still that damned house rivalry. I'm looking forward to this afternoon. The boys will learn to work as a team or fail._

“Where are we going now? I want to rearrange this room later in peace.”

_It seems Severus would have wanted more details, but I'm not willing to have my every move checked._

_Instead of closing the windows with magic I walk up to them and have a look on the ground. The Forbidden Forest looks more enchanted than forbidding with its snow-covered tops. A few students are building a snowman and Filch is clearing the front stairs._

“Do you want to have a better look all over place?” _The soft tone of Severus' voice should make me wary._

“Why not? Where are we going?”

“Wait and see....”

_He leads me through endless corridors, up and down the ever-moving staircases. A few stairs still seem to be missing, so we have to take detours._

“Do you know where you're heading or are you just giving me a quick tour of the whole building site?” _I ask when we have obviously reached the third floor. In my humble opinion we should have been going up not down._

_Severus' answer confirms my impression that the castle is still in a state._

“There's only one flight of stairs left leading to the place we are going to and we can only enter it from second floor. Aren't you enjoying to see the places of your youthful adventures again?”

_Youthful adventures translates into nasty pranks in Snapetongue. I get your point. Yes, I remember this corridor and the broom cupboard. We had hexed you in 6th year and pushed you into the broom cupboard when Lily came around the corner. I suppose you stayed in there for quite some time. We all went to Hogsmeade together and forgot about you._

“I'm not particularly enjoying certain memories. How many times do I have to say we were arseholes? What is it now? Do you want to lock me in to show me what it feels like?”

_Severus has opened the cupboard door._

“You should talk to Filch about cleaning hidden corners.” My voice is quivering as _I stare into the dark, narrow space. I actually know what it feels like. Some 7th year Gryffindors who didn't like Bellatrix locked me into a broom cupboard in my second week at Hogwarts. It was sheer dumb luck that James came looking for me and didn't give up until he found me. It makes worse what we did to you that I knew._

“Would you go in there and stay?” 

_Every single nerve of my body tingles and screams “No way!” My conscience whispers “It would be fair.” Then I remember who he is. He's not like that._

“Honestly, I'd rather not.... You know I have a little problem with locked doors.”

_Severus smirks, but there's no malice._

“Good, I prefer a friend not to act like a reckless idiot trying to be noble.”

_Friend?!_

“Thank you,” _I say quietly, leaving it to his imagination whether I mean for not expecting me to crawl into that cupboard or for calling me his friend._

_On our way to the stairs we pass Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. It's heavily locked and bolted._

_I guess she's very unhappy about the locks. Myrtle always liked visitors, especially boys. Her bathroom had been a safe place to plan and prepare our pranks. I halt in my steps._

“Is it still intact? Myrtle happily moaning and all?”

“Oh yes, it remained nearly undamaged. If you're referring to the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets, it is also still there.”

_I can't help grinning and twinkle._

“And the current headmaster has never been tempted to explore? Never wanted to know, if a Muggle-killing monster was the only secret Slytherin has left?”

“As it seems to have escaped your attention, I am not a Parselmouth. Don't tell me you are.”

“No, I am not, but we know a Parselmouth who would be delighted to join us for an expedition.”

“If there are more secrets hidden in that Chamber, I do not wish Potter and a gang of Aurors to find them and hide them in the Ministry vaults forever. His ability to speak Parseltongue has nearly vanished since the Dark Lord's death anyway.”

_I laugh out._

“You've never suspected anything, haven't you? The little one has been more clever than we gave him credit for. I'm not talking about Harry, I mean my brother Regulus.”

“Regulus? You're kidding. Why wouldn't he tell anyone?”

“Because even in my family speaking Parseltongue would have raised a few eyebrows. He was a cunning little snake and kept his secrets. He nearly gave himself away when he was about five, but I only really understood last Christmas. The tinsel snakes, he always said they were telling each other stories and everybody laughed at the child's vivid imagination. On the night after the party, when everyone was gone I heard them whisper. They are talking to each other. I couldn't understand them, but Regulus could.”

 _Severus is considering what I've said._ “He's just a portrait....”

“He's a talking portrait. He can speak any language he could speak at the time he was drawn.”

“Slytherin's Chamber..... Regulus never believed that all he left was a monster, but he believed many stupid things. What if all we'll find is Darkness?”

“Then we seal the Chamber for good and nobody else needs to know. Aren't you a tiny bit curious?”

“Gryffindor!”

“Slytherin!”

“Let me think about it and we need to talk to Regulus. “

_He does think about it while we climb the stairs up to the ….. Astronomy Tower. It is blocked against students. Aurora has told me this part of the castle suffered the greatest damage during the battle. When they reopened the school, they moved her classroom to the West tower. Nobody seems to be in a hurry to get it repaired. The place where Dumbledore died belongs to the Bloody Baron and…. Severus._

_Why is he taking me here? Not to enjoy the magnificent view._

_It has started to snow and the heavy winds on the highest towers drive icy, needle-like flakes into our faces. The broken battlements don't offer any shelter._

_If the students on the ground see us standing here, they will think we are Dementors. Dark shadows with billowing black robes._

_Severus' face and hands turn red in the biting cold._

_I'm freezing. What for? In memory of...._

“That's enough self-punishment for one morning, Sev. Let's get back inside.”

_Sev glares at me. The melting snowflakes on his cheeks look like tears, maybe they are tears._

“Go back, Sirius. You don't need to stay with me.”

“I'm not leaving without you!”

_I take his arm and try to pull him through the doorway. He swings at me, wants to push me away._

_I grab his shoulders._

“Sev, it doesn't change anything! He had no right to force you! No right at all! It's him who should be standing here, freezing, doing penance.”

“I've killed him!”

“You were doing his bidding! And while you obeyed his every command, he even tricked you with his death. Sev, look at me! Yes, you killed him and I thank you for doing so. If he'd been alive when I came back, I had killed him or died trying!”

“You don't know what you're saying....”

“No, I don't, because your loyalty to the old man spared me the knowledge.”

“I gave him my word... to do anything...”

“I know. Harry told me. It was his choice to die, his choice to die the way he did. He used you like he used all of us. All for the greater good! His greater good! He had no goddamn right to decide what was right and what was wrong.”

_Severus has stopped trying to hit me. I hold him steady. He never stood a chance against me in a Muggle brawl._

“You really hate the headmaster.”

“I don't know if I hate him. I don't mourn his death. …. and he's not the headmaster anymore. You are! All that is left of him is a portrait under your command!”

“A portrait under my command....” _Severus seems to be amused by that idea._ “Maybe we should tell him. Has Regulus told you that he has been asking for you?”

 _I nod._ “Are you going to show me your office, Headmaster?”

“It's part of the standard sightseeing tour, isn't it?”

 

_~Severus~_

_The talk leading away from the Astronomy Tower may not distract Sirius as much as I wish. He is looking at me strangely as if he never noticed me being in pain before. My humour and his has gone from our minds before we are ten paces from the door leading back downstairs._

_I feel bizarre as if Sirius and I are teenage friends about to be discovered by Filch. I mention the thought to Sirius. He gives me a sheepish grin, but it leaves his face in seconds. A portrait under my command. You tell the bleeding portrait that, Sirius, I think. His grey eyes are concerned. I strive to keep mine empty._

_Pain._

_Sirius used to cause a lot of it, but all in semi-moronic pranks and sometimes useful hexes I adapted for my own use. But he's never seen me in crisis, unsure, tormented in inner ways, as he has recently. A few slips at Grimmauld Place, but never suicidal and having everything press in on me until it's absolutely intolerable._

_Sirius saved me from my eternal enemy, myself._

_The old man did that to me, he and Lily. The two Gryffindors Harry Potter sanctifies even before Sirius. Dumbledore. My face shows such revulsion it is no wonder Sirius keeps quiet for a stretch. He respects my feelings. Until..._

“I really would have killed him, Sev.”

“Yes. You do mean what you say, I know you well enough to tell that.” _I snap the words at him._

_We've come down the North Tower quickly enough, and off along corridors and down more stairs until we arrive at the stone gargoyle, and Sirius leans against the wall with that “I own the place and can do whatever I want” pure-blood arrogance the Black family seemed to produce in spades._

“What's the password?” _Sirius prompts._ “Something along the lines of the shellfish stew?”

“Oh, it's very straightforward. For a Slytherin. Students must be able to access here fairly easily. You think I am more complex than I am. You find me ridiculously complicated, and my password is simple. It is an addition that is hard to discover and harder to hold. Answer in the form of a question.”

 _Sirius looks at me and grins._ “I got it at the beginning. No need to rant on about it.” _He turns to the gargoyle and it stares at him, unmoving, seemingly unaware. It's so very simple. People_ _do_ _overlook the obvious._

“What is power?” _Sirius asks and the gargoyle opens its stone eyes and leaps aside to reveal the spiral staircase. I removed the ridiculous impression of an escalator_ _that was the moving spiral staircase_ _. We walk up. Sirius' smirk disappears at the entrance to my office._ _It has a serpent rather than gr_ _i_ _ffin door_ _-_ _knocker._ _Yes, Dumbledore, my office. With Sirius' support I could even move up here. But my heart is in the bowels. The bowels of the dungeons._

_I open the door and Phineas Nigellus calls, “About time you decided to grace us with your presence,” with a hint of snide humour._

_I look immediately behind the desk. I do not wish to look at him but Dumbledore draws the eye in the same indecent way one wishes to avoid looking at him. You can't look at him or look away._

“Shall we drape the blighter in black coffin drapery? Like my mother's. Same idea.” _Sirius asks after seeing the arrested look on my face. He's often so practical. I like that. Good attribute of a real friend. He can think without my input but still along the same lines._

“Purple. Royal purple, for double irony.” Yes, I'm sneering, Albus. What of it? You're quite used to it. You belittle me for it. Now you can be clothed in it. 

_Sirius whisks out his wand and I look at Dumbledore, look him in the eyes. Blue, but no twinkle. He looks a bit abashed I am glad to see. A purple sash appears around the frame, and the ends zoom together to silence him before he speaks, so we won't have to endure his wise old commentary._

_I have a strange thought. Be draped in your greatness, you Gryffindor King. It is followed by another strange thought, of a much younger Draco Malfoy singing “Weasley is our King” at a Quidditch match. I don't bother to stifle my chuckle._

 


	85. Sirius/Severus: A long postponed conversation

~Sirius~

“About time someone shuts him up,” _Phineas comments. Several honourable headmasters grumble of disrespectful youngsters, but others giggle and snigger with us._

_This office still makes me nervous, but when not being watched by twinkling blue eyes it's bearable. For all the times I have been called here I rarely had the chance to have a good look around. Regulus said Severus doesn't use it. It doesn't look used; not much has changed as far as I can tell._

_This is not what we came here for. We're not students. He's not headmaster anymore. I give Sev a questioning look. He slightly inclines his head and I make the curtains on the portrait move to the sides._

_Dumbledore blinks and smiles kindly._

“Sirius, still playing pranks, are you?” _he chuckles._ “I've been hoping to see you, since Severus informed us of your return. I'm so glad that you survived the veil and returned in such a good health. We were all devastated at your supposed death.”

“Were you?”

“Of course, I was. How can you doubt...?” Dumbledore seems genuinely surprised at my brusque reaction.

“It suited your purposes quite comfortably, didn't it? But no hard feelings, I don't blame you for... my accident.”

“You seem to be still a bit upset about certain things you might not fully understand. Why don't you sit down and we have a little chat. I'm sure we can solve all possible misunderstandings amicably.”

_Severus has been listening to our exchange quietly, too quietly in my opinion. What does Dumbledore think to act as if this is still his office and he can invite me to a chat?_

“The only misunderstanding is with you. I'm here on the headmaster's invitation not yours.”

“Tell him, he always forgets that he's in retirement.” _Phineas cheers._

“I've been merely trying to be polite. Severus, I'm sorry, if I've sounded condescending. Phineas, your grandson and I are old friends. There's no need for nit-picking on formalities.”

_Severus smirks slightly and I think I can hear him_ hiss something like “... portraits under my command” _Sarcasm is probably the only way to deal with the lot. He offers me a chair._

“Nothing can be said against a nice post-breakfast conversation. You haven't spoken to …. Albus since your return, Sirius?” h _e says softly._

“No, I haven't. There aren't many portraits of him around. Harry merely keeps an old photograph in his house.”

_Albus.... blinks. Then he smiles his always kind and understanding smile again. Portraits don't learn new tricks, ...... but they still know the old ones. He makes me want to shout all the accusations at him, the names of all the dead friends and thereby lose the battle. He's the wise old man, the great wizard. I'm just an immature brat, not understanding the complexity of life. Not this time.... I have grown up, not a student any more. He's just a portrait, just a portrait. Just a portrait! I want to yell at him anyway. Ask the questions only he can answer, … if anyone can._

_Why did they die? Why did they have to die? Did they have to die? Why have you always been there to give each of us a push in the … right direction and never when we truly needed you?_

_Severus must have given you a warning! I am sure he has! Our eyes meet. Severus can see their faces in my mind and looks down slightly nodding. Of course, he has warned you._

_Where were you when James and Lily died?_

“Harry has grown into a young man to be proud of, don't you think? His father would have liked to see him like that.”

_He's really trying his old trick again. Last time he made me move back into Grimmauld Place with it and the time before that he made me sign that fatal note with the secret. I don't know what annoys me more that he is stupid enough to dare or that he believes I will fall for it again. Severus at my side has turned into his inscrutable self. I envy his skill in dealing with the old man, just a matter of years of practise perhaps. I try to follow his example._

“James would have been very proud of his son's bravery,” _I assert._ “I am proud of Harry, he has managed very well. Lily however would mostly be glad that he survived.” _My voice becomes a little sharper._ “Not thanks to you!”

_I incline my head slightly into Severus' direction to make clear who I credit for that._

“I see you two have finally reached some friendly understanding. It was about time you buried your childish grudge against each other. Your brother is so excited about it. He's a rather cheeky little fellow for a portrait, reminds me of you at his age.“

_Harry didn't work, so it's Regulus now? Once you see through it, his tricks are rather cheap, but that doesn't stop them from hurting. I've let down Reggie; I've let down James and I've let down Harry. But that damn old coot has no right to tell me! Not when I did it to meet his expectations of goodness. I'm following my own judgement now. I won't let down Severus._

“You can bet I'm excited, Professor. Sirius and Sev are friends now, like it or not. Oh and I'm not cheeky, I'm just stretching my legs after 20 years in a dark drawer.”

Talking of little brothers, _there's a bit of a commotion in Phineas' frame. Regulus has squeezed himself in. Do teenagers have a sixth sense for such situations?_

“... impossible brat! Almost as bad as your brother...,” _Phineas growls as Reggie is brushing snow out of his hair and from his robes. His nose and cheeks are red from the cold and probably from exercise._

“Have you found a broom and a winter landscape with snow drifts?” _I laugh._

“Yeah, it was great! Much more fun on a broomstick. You've got to try yourself, Sirius. You both should try! Sev really, you're going to like it. It's brilliant!”

“Do I really want to know what your brother is talking about?” _Severus tries to sound exasperated, but the tiny wrinkles in the corners of his eyes betray his amusement at the little one's excitement._

“I don't think so, Sev.” _I reply as seriously as I can manage._

“Whatever it is, I trust you not to do it in front of students, Professor Black.”

“Of course not, Headmaster. Nothing of the kind without your permission during the school year.”

_Dumbledore makes rustling noises with his robes. Has he chosen the iridescent blue fabric to stick out among the mostly sombre appearance of the other portraits? He really looks like the puppet I bought at the Christmas market. Except that he's watching us over the rim of his spectacles and there is a hint of a dangerous glitter in his blue eyes. He's obviously miffed at being ignored. I want him to be miffed, because if he was his usual smug wise-old-man self, I couldn't refrain from setting fire to his canvas. It's a childish wish, petty! I shouldn't give him the satisfaction that he still can reduce me to an obnoxious school boy. Scorch mark in the corners would be nice, wouldn't they? Play it cool, Sirius! He's just a portrait! He's not going to get at me! He's not going to get at us._

_He is! He always will!_

“I'd very much like to know about your exciting adventures, Mr Black. If…. the headmaster doesn't mind.... “ _Dumbledore addresses Regulus pleasantly. Reggie looks at me and I look at Severus. He shrugs and nods at Reggie._

“Tell us, Reg. And no, I'm not going to try it!”

_Regulus chuckles._ “On our way here Sirius flew his motorbike through a huge snow drift. It was fun, but I really wanted to do it myself, the proper wizard way on a broomstick. I borrowed one from another painting and went to the painting of the Corbetts on the third floor. You've got to try, Sev. It's just harmless fun, really, nothing to worry about. Perfectly safe, maybe Sirius can take you on his bike the first time, if you still don't like brooms.”

_Severus frowns at me._ “I thought you've said you used Muggle roads and only took to the air where you could not be seen? Racing through snow drifts doesn't look like not drawing attention to yourself.”

“One snow drift and I swear nobody saw us.”

“How many students have seen you, Reg?”

“Not many, how stupid do you think I am? The Corbetts painting is in a remote corridor. I'm not a Gryffindork who needs an audience.”

“Thank you very much, Reggie. Don't think I'm showing you any more fun tricks.”

_Reggie sticks out his tongue and Severus buries his face in his hands in – I hope – mock despair. I'd laughed, if Dumbledore wasn't a witness. He smiles and that spoils the moment for me. I'm getting as wary as Severus about Dumbledore seeing my feelings._

“Isn't it warming your heart, Phineas, to see your grandsons having overcome their discord? Things had been so much easier, if only they..... I could have helped....”

_A lump forms in my throat. I remember his face when he saw my Patronus. His evasive answers when I asked about Regulus after my escape. If only we trusted our hearts against his wisdom._

_Portraits can't use Legilimency, but Severus' eyes are set on me now. His voice is cold and cutting as he interrupts his old master._

“What are you hinting at, Dumbledore? Are you blaming Sirius and Regulus for believing what they had been taught by those they trusted? You could have helped indeed, but you ...”

_He's interrupted by Reggie._ “No Severus, don't even think of that. I can't remember why I didn't ask you or Sirius for help when I found out about the Dark Lord's lies. For all I know I would have wanted you to be with me, both of you, if that had been possible. “ _Regulus all of a sudden doesn't sound like a teenager. His voice is calm and determined like he has thought about those things quite a lot._ “I am sure about one thing however that I didn't want the help Professor Dumbledore might have offered. I think I rather died than selling all of us into slavery. He'd done to us what he later did to you.”

“Reggie! I would have done anything ….”

“That's exactly what I mean. You would have done anything he asked you to do. That is not what I call help, it is taking advantage! That's what he has done to Sev. He nearly got him killed. I'm not stupid. I listened to you, talking about what happened, I listened to Phineas and maybe to a few other portraits since you brought me here. And Kreacher could also tell me a lot”

“Mr Black, I'm afraid you're stuck in the year you've been painted. You cannot possibly fathom the complexity of events, the danger your master meant to the wizarding world. I wish you would have trusted your brother with your discovery. Things had been so much easier, if I had known about the Horcruxes. As it was your noble sacrifice achieved nothing to stop Voldemort. On the contrary it could have ruined all our endeavours, if the locket had got lost forever. I don't blame you, you were young and scared and confused....”

_Reggie stares at him, biting his lip. Severus and Phineas frown. I wish I could comfort Reggie. His sacrifice achieved much._

“Achieved nothing? Anything that didn't further your plans was nothing? Our mother and Kreacher lived. Of course that means nothing to you!” _I can feel the weight of my father's locket around my neck. Mother shouldn't listen to this, but it can't be helped._ “Once he figured out Voldemort's secret, Regulus couldn't risk to face him ever again. Sev, what do you think how long would he have lasted under Legilimency?”

_Severus resignedly shakes his head._ “Not a second. Like you and most of your family he had the talent to occlude, but lacked the discipline. The Dark Lord would have seen it all. Regulus knew. I had warned him about it more than once.” _He pauses for a moment and then continues very quietly,_ “Regulus would have been lucky to die at once, but I doubt it. The Dark Lord would have very likely spared him to witness the deaths of all he cared for before granting that mercy. Not just your mother and Kreacher, Sirius, all his loved ones.”

_I smile bitterly._ “I know. Though it's not that easy to kill us, is it Sev? Both our masters tried and both failed.”

“I never..... Sirius, how can you believe... I've never wanted you or Severus to die. You can't deny I've done my utmost to keep you out of trouble and protect you from the Ministry. Both of you.“

_The sound of our laughter at Dumbledore's words makes the magic trinkets that fill the endless bookshelves clink and rattle._

“Let's face it, you did a lousy job on that, Dumbledore. You kept us alive while we were useful in your schemes. After we served our purpose, we could go to hell.”

“He probably means we should be grateful to have been indispensable long enough. Others were less lucky. Tell me Dumbledore, would you ask approval or praise from Benjy, Caradoc, Edgar or Marlene for not wanting me dead, when you were convinced beyond a shadow of doubt that I was the traitor. On a purely pragmatic thought you should have killed me instead of letting them die! But it was more to your taste to play your cunning games with passing false intelligence to the Dark Lord. They trusted you! I trusted you. I'm not even counting those you betrayed yourself, those you swore to protect. All for the greater good?”

  


~Severus~

_My voice is rising in a way that is impossible to overcome. All of my defences desert me, feeling like I am a First year with bad memories and no control. Dumbledore can't know, he can't possibly understand, he can perpetually overestimate and underestimate and never in between. He still doesn't know why I generally refuse to speak to him unless cloaked by the utmost sarcasm. He'll never fathom it, though Potter said he thought he may have killed his sister. If he does know how I feel at killing him whether through a forced hand or not, then he is more despicable than I dreamed._

_And there were others. Others he let die at the right time. For the right reason. How wrong can being right get? The Dark Lord never had any pretence as to why others were to die...is Dumbledore's path that different? The Order meetings and the Death Eater conferences ran together and blended so well I was at wit's end. But Dumbledore...I am completely at wit's end. I try to rein in my voice, always think through and weigh my words, but these are things I have said to the cat, under my breath, in practice for a time that would never come. But the time is here. Sirius is staring at me, set on edge by my continuing lack of control that started on the Astronomy Tower. I tried to feel, to act within reason but it has abandoned me fully._

_I feel like I am back in the cutting flakes of snow, feel the chill, the wind, the pain._  
  
“And your protection! Since when do you protect anything more than your limitless calculated plans of action that no one else ever shares fully? Who cares if someone gets hurt while you're scheming? Even those innocents like Emmeline who did nothing worse than to offer to help you? Help you bolster my position with the Dark Lord?” _My voice is wavering. My mind is spitting words and I find it hard to catch them. It feels strange not to use forethought, and I almost relish the freedom of it. The next few words that come I do plan and feel the sting of the words before I even speak them. Back to normal. Even a waspish whisper that carries on the air like noxious gas._

_  
_“And my soul, Dumbledore? Don't you think it's perhaps been harmed on your orders? Your own murder – I can see it no other way, mercy killing is still killing – did it not rip my soul? I ask you to take responsibility for the havoc you wreaked, in a way as cunning as the Dark Lord himself did. I think of Caradoc's accusing stare as I watched him die.”

“More frightening than the ghost of an Inferius are the murders I contributed to that I should have helped but did not have the foresight to. All because I assumed you would protect your own hand-picked helpmates in the Order from harm or death as far as was possible. I could have saved Emmeline... I was in a position to do so and I did nothing.”

“Fenwick was found in pieces and whose fault was it? I thought as I thought with Emmeline that both had an escape route out of their separate fixes. A hidden Portkey perhaps. You knew they didn't. I thought they did. At least some chance, I thought, some small sliver of a chance at life. I abandoned them because I never guessed you had abandoned them.”

_Sirius had been looking at the former Headmaster and his eyes snap to mine the minute I look at him. Hot tears burn my face. Once again control spins out of my grasp._

“Who is the guilty one? I take the brunt of the blame, for trusting you!” _I'm shouting at the top of my voice which still isn't very loud. Angry tears mix with grief tears. An Elixir To Induce Agony, I think, despair in the sarcasm. My brow is more knitted that it ever has been. Still Dumbledore doesn't stop me, and if I hear one snivelling platitude I will hex his canvas to cinders. But that would be too kind to him. Let him live with the guilt._

_Sirius speaks, saving the day for me. And not Dumbledore._

“ _About Emmeline and Benjy, Severus. I know both were captured at different times by the Death Eaters. Dumbledore set them up as decoys set up to give you credit with Voldemort. They didn't die due to some fault on your part. At first I thought it was inexpert planning. But somehow both were a liability to Dumbledore, because their private lives were interesting enough to make them easymarks – easy targets for blackmail. I was there when Emmeline was given her orders, to take a post near the Ministry and watch out for suspicious activities. It was only a day or two before the battle at the Ministry.”_

_He shrugs in a helpless, embarrassed way. “You know everybody thought I was too drunk to follow what was going on and they didn't care what I overheard. Maybe I was too drunk, but I remembered when the fog was cleared. It sounded like a harmless task. She was given no warning, no way out. ”_

_I look at Dumbledore. He looks shocked, but more at being discovered than being innocently surprised. He's never had much of an inscrutable look, more an act of keeping secrets and hoarding lies in front of everyone. That and the wise, bearded sage position and the act of pretending to care, a mockery of true kindness._

_I have had enough of this._ “You are a portrait under my command. You are bound by ancient laws of honour to help the current headmaster. Unlike you, I won't use coercion, if you stay still and let me ask a few questions of the other portraits...what they saw and heard. I will only delve into a few topics, and you must answer truthfully, and then we can see if you still try to blame someone else for your own actions.” _I mutter under my breath so Sirius alone can hear,_ “Portrait under my command.”

_Sirius is smiling strangely. He looks at me and asks audibly, “_ I have a few questions too if the current headmaster authorizes it.” _He seems to be imitating my overly formal use of speech. What do I care if he digs up dirt for me?_

“Certainly. You have equal freedom as I have as headmaster to question my portraits.”

“Be ruthless, Severus. You're too kind to some people.” _Sirius' observation throws me. No one has accused me of being kind, leave alone too kind. But then, no one has ever known me as well as Sirius does. Not even Regulus, and never Lily._

“I know, _” I snap at him. Sirius doesn't blink, but waves his long arm at the walls. Not a single portrait is feigning sleep. I think they may want Dumbledore to be exposed to the winds of the Astronomy Tower quite as much as I do. It doesn't matter so much what happens now, I know I did not split my soul when I was forced to kill him. I was under an Unbreakable Vow, and the old man was very soon to die. But I always thought that he didn't deserve to die like that, I was wrong. I should have spat in his face as I did it. Sirius would, it took courage to overcome my inner morality and do what I thought was murder rather that a duty. Too kind, Sirius says._

_I haven't felt such hatred in a while. I will get the portraits to tell their tales. The current headmaster needs information, I need to make the idea man behind the Greater Good admit that he might have been wrong. Apologize for using us all. Without platitudes attached. Or lies. I won't use Phineas because the old man will say Phineas Nigellus Black is prejudiced in our favour, being a Black and being in the same house as me. I look at the portraits carefully. Three should do, too many voices just make for chaos._

_Regulus whistles, and there is an outpouring of muttering, nods and even a whistle from the portraits. Here I am over-thinking and Regulus cuts to the chase. How very like when I was sixteen. There must be good points to having teenagers around._

_There have been many._

_There will be great use for him soon, I think, and my spirits rise. This all seems darkly amusing somehow, without all that guilt burning in my veins like molten lava or white phosphorous. I am still going to get to the bottom of this._

_And I am going to enjoy it._

“In my defense, I did none of those things. They were the idea of the Order of the Phoenix. We had to find any way to destroy Lord Voldemort... _” Dumbledore begins._

_I hiss at him for using the name. I don't hiss at Sirius for doing the same._

_I move closer to the portrait, looking him squarely in his perplexed eyes._ “You say to always use the proper name for things. In my view he was the Dark Lord. The name you use makes him special among any other Dark Lords. He was not special, he was common. You try to change everyone but yourself. You fail to see anyone else's point of view. Did you or did you not give Fenwick and Vance each a fatal task with no way out?”

“You must understand, I did not intend for them to die that way. They were a liability but I didn't force them to take their jobs. They were voluntary.”

“And did they 'volunteer' to expire in that way? Did you or did you not give them their orders knowing that they could not back out or find a way to escape?” I snarl.

“The circumstances surrounding this unfortunate...”

“Dumbledore, you are in a room full of eyewitnesses! _” Sirius snaps at him. He looks around at Phineas Nigellus and Dilys Derwent, Fortescue with his ear trumpet, the corpulent, red-nosed wizard and the gimlet-eyed witch...even soppy old Armando Dippet is looking stern and non-conciliatory._

“The truth, sir!” _cries a sallow skinned wizard with a short black fringe. Everard. There is more muttering and every face is turned to Dumbledore, Sirius or me._

_Regulus scowls._ “Professor Dumbledore, you never frightened me, you never got the chance to use me like you would have, the way you used my brother and Severus. If you don't spit out the truth in a one-word answer I'll come into your portrait and poke your eyes into your head with my thumbs. I swear I will.”

“I don't want him to be forced. I want him to...” _I begin, then I hear a croaky whisper carried on the thick, tense air._

“Yes.”

_He said it! I never thought he would admit to anything._

“The circumstances made it so I was forced to...” _he continues, but stops at the sight of Regulus flexing his thumbs in the background of his sketch. The great Albus Dumbledore looks like a wee lad caught with his hand in the biscuit tin. I feel like sneering at him for weeks._

“I've heard enough. I won't wait for the backstabbing self-justification. We have better things to do.” _Sirius barks a laugh that is like a threat._

_There is a chorus of clapping coming from the former headmasters and headmistresses. It isn't pleasant. I think Dumbledore will have to answer to that lot and suddenly I feel – happy._

_~Sirius~_

_I really have enough. Severus seems to be feeling the same. At least he has recovered from his guilt trip on the tower. Don't let him make you feel guilty, it's more powerful than any Imperius curse your Dark Lord could cast. Mischief managed.... in a way._

_I look at the portrait like seeing the old man truly for the first time. The fury I've felt for all those months fades. There is a lingering trace of disappointment.... yes, disappointment, broken dreams. Some part of me still had hoped that he could explain what happened. He can't. We are left to our own devices. Not the worst situation, I like it that friendship prevails where wisdom and power have failed._

_The curtains fall back over the portrait. It's none of his business what we are planning to do next._

“Is Hogwarts' new Defence Professor ready to study the Dark Arts?” _Severus tries to sound cheerfully. He almost manages._

“At your service, Headmaster. Let's see what do we need? Not books, I suppose.” I l _ook at Reggie, twinkling. He meets my look with excitement and curiosity._ _Suddenly I know how to take him with us. I fumble with the chain around my neck and open the locket._

_Severus watches me in astonishment. He must have noticed the locket before, today or at the funeral, but I've never told what it contains._

“Mum, would you mind to change frames with Reggie? We'd like him to accompany us on a … stroll around the castle.”

_She smiles kindly and nods. In an instant she appears in Phineas' portrait. Phineas hides his surprise well and like a gentleman he rises from his chair and offers it to her._

“Walpurga...., nice to see you again. It's been a long time.”

_She slowly sits down, still unused to so much space and company. Reggie takes her hand to give her comfort. She looks up to him reassuringly and then scans her surroundings. Her eyes fall on Severus who seems to get a bit uncomfortable or wary in her presence. I remember she barely accepted him. No, she didn't welcome him in the past, only better than my bloodtraitor friends as she called them by a margin. Will she now?_

_I see that Reggie presses her hand and she takes a deep breath._

“Professor Snape,” _Her voice is quivering, so different from the mad shrieking of her other portrait._ “I'd like to... I think... I owe you an apology and a thank you. I always believed that only pure blood could make one a worthy Slytherin and the House of Slytherin is the only one that counts. I've almost lost both my sons to that belief and you who I treated no better than a servant because of your mother's misalliance brought them back to me. Regulus told me there are exceptions, men in whose veins the old magic blood runs true despite their fathers. I wouldn't believe him. I was wrong. You are such an exceptional man, Professor Snape and I want to thank you for being such a good friend to my sons, past and present....”

_Her voice fails her and I guess that's for the better. Regulus kisses her on the cheek and Phineas has put his hand on her shoulder. Severus stares at her. He's trying to make sense of the still unrepentant racist rubbish she calls an apology. We look at him pleading for … tolerance. It's the best she can do. She really means it. I don't need to worry. Severus understands. The corners of his mouth twitch only for a fragment of a second. He inclines his head in her direction. He can be a match to her Pureblood arrogance, if he chooses to._

“Madam Black...”

“Reggie, hop over.” _I hold the empty locket in his direction and he pops up inside it._

“What do you want me to help with? “ _he pipes excitedly._

“We tell you on the way, but first answer one question. Do you really understand the tinsel snakes?”

_Regulus hesitates to answer. He watches us warily._

“I have no idea what you mean, Severus.”

“Reggie, you know perfectly well. Do you understand the snakes, yes or no?”

_The portraits around us whisper._

“What, if I do? That doesn't make me...”

“Nobody has said that, Reg. We don't judge anyone's character by a natural gift he hasn't asked for. It depends what you do with it. Would you agree to put it to good use? For the honour of Slytherin House?”

_The whispering portraits of the dead headmasters are now very much awake. I suppose some of them got the point. Reggie has. He's beaming._

_In a lowered voice he asks,_ “You want me to open.... the Chamber of Secrets for you, don't you? The three of us together on a magic quest? What are we waiting for?”

_Severus again proves his amazing ability to keep his countenance._

“What are we waiting for indeed?” _he says softly._


	86. Severus/Sirius: Secrets of the Chamber

_~Severus~_

_I don't want to waste time. I just want to feel victorious over the two madmen of the age. Then, Sirius and I may be madmen as well. In a far different way._

_I sweep out of the door after Sirius. Regulus is whistling as if happy to be on an adventure, not falling silent at our discovery of his talent. I can hear Sirius threatening to close the locket. I can tell he's joking, and so can Reg._

_Down the non-spiral stairs, and finally the gargoyle jumps back into place._

“Potter told you-” _I address Sirius, but I stop for Regulus to hiss lightly. I smile and continue_. “He told you more about the Chamber, more detailed than what the old bastard told me, I assume.”

“He told me everything, and it's not that much, he's not always terribly observant under pressure. Bit better now he's a trained Auror.”

“Remedial Potions,” _I mutter to myself as we walk, Sirius heading for the third floor. Moaning Myrtle hasn't flooded it for once. She must be so happy, being allowed to be miserable for so long. I don't feel badly about the Occlumency lessons beyond minor loathing at dear Harry's excursion into the shared Pensieve. And it's supposed to be okay for Sirius to adore him._

_This isn't the time. I quicken my pace to keep up with Sirius. He's telling me exactly where Harry found the serpent symbol etched into the copper tap. Sirius bangs the girls' bathroom door open and walks boldly to where the 'frozen' faucet is, the one that never worked. There's a loud sniff._

_Moaning Myrtle seems to have noticed us._ “You're not  girl s! Why are you coming to upset me? What do you want?”  _She stops._ “Headmaster! I'm sorry. Go ahead. I'll just cry in my cubicle while you find something to maim you down there.”  _She sniffs some more and goes back in her toilet. Regulus sniggers._

“Harry looked at it and used his imagination to think it moved, to give it an order, _” Sirius informs me._

_I walk over to look at the tiny serpent. It doesn't seem like much to go on, but I put a locomotion spell on the little snake, to make it appear to writhe and coil._

“Tell it to... _” I begin to ask Regulus._

“XSSXSSTHSTHSSSS _” Regulus says so softly that it is a crooning noise. Yes, Reg can talk to tinsel snakes, for the frozen tap with the serpent begins to both spin and glow eerily. The sink jerked and then moved smoothly down and in, leaving a gap open, a man-sized hole._

“It's a safe and slimy ride. Harry said he just let the ride take him deep below the school, below the lake, that everything would be green and ghostly.”

_I actually laugh hard. He nearly described the first impression of the Slytherin common room. If Harry Potter could get in, Sirius must have been in my old dormitory once. If only to nick my books and leave belching powder on my every flavour beans. But he wasn't. Or was he? I'll ask him another time. I elbow Sirius and nod at the hole._

“You want me to go first?” _Sirius laughs, shaking his head like the shaggy hair is fur._ “Sllllytherin!”

“You want to show off, don't you? Your chance is passing you by... Gryffffindor!”

“Will you two stop bickering! Drop **me** if you have to!” Regulus snaps.

_I climb on and stick my legs in the chute. Sirius and Regulus sound the same, about showoff Slytherins being as possible as cunning Gryffindors. I don't care. I spot myself in a mirror opposite. Hair more askew than usual, glittering eyes...I let myself go._

_ It's a drop and then a bump at  each of the filthy  curved  corners,  pungent  with a smell like rotten fish and discarded snakeskin. Of course I know the latter, don't I? I'm dreading the end.  I'm sure some things beyond rats or voles have been breeding in the space between human visitations. Not another Basilisk, I am sure of that. They are only born every two hundred years.  And Regulus could..I stop thinking as I hit the ground with a thud and a crackle. _

_ Underneath me is all slime and bones...with no meat or innards left. But the smell is near that of the Cave. I get to my feet, having slid knee s  first into a stone wall.  _

“It's so pleasant here. You must join me!” _I call through the hole where I can see a hint of light but no direct line._

_ I get out of the way. I can hear thuds as  Sirius bumps his way down to me. _

_ He and Regulus arrive, Reg looking thrilled. _ “Be a better example of your House, Reg,”  _ I chide him. He acts fifteen and blows a raspberry. Some things never change.  _ _ We scramble over broken rocks. Regulus nearly smashes on a protruding rock and Sirius slips his hand around the locket.  _ _ Finally we seem rid of the rocks. Regulus answers after a long fit of Sirius and I clambering over rocks, grunting and cursing. The cave-in ends and we come to a wall. _

_There are two entwined stone serpents with large inlaid emerald eyes that seem to glitter and glow. Regulus will help open that for us._

“Slytherin means greatness, and I am the greatest gas act of the age,” _Regulus titters._ “Is that entrance? Has to be...wow. I mean wow. Why couldn't Salazar Slytherin have put those for an entrance to the Common Room instead of the blank stone wall?” _He's speaking earnestly through the smothering hand._

“Had to be more subtle when out in the open.” _I answer and turn to Sirius who is smothering his laughter with a broad hand._

“You two are such snakes. Come on, Reggie. Open it up. I want to put a space between me and that smell. Unless something that smells worse awaits.” _Sirius grins a wide grin._

“Something worse awaits, you can bet on it. Regulus, please?” _I ask tartly._

“XSSXSSTHSTHSSSS,” _he repeats,_ _Sirius no longer covering him._ _It must mean open. I'm curious but_ _I_ _hold out my arm to block the brothers._

“Be careful. Wands out, locket away. Regulus! Can you hear through the closed locket? If you can't hear...” I begin. 

“I can hear just fine. Magnified, Mum must have put a charm on it. But I don't want to miss anything!”

“I'll let you out, little runt, when we're sure not to break you on more piles of broken rock or run into unfriendly powers.” _Sirius closes the locket and slips him behind the neck of his robes._ _Regulus can no longer protest._

_ We step through the parted wall-serpents, which  _ _ has slid _ _ aside smoothly as ice,  _ _ emerald eyes gleaming. I feel the touch of Salazar's powers. It gives me pleasant chill, and I walk through first, with Sirius trying to get ahead. This is not as much his concern as mine. And adventure to him, but to me it also means potion ingredients, harnessing formerly irretrievable properties and powers, dark or otherwise.  _ _ He wants the latter, too, just doesn't mention it. _

_My eyes scan the place we have stepped to._

_Tall stone pillars the shape of serpents with downward glancing heads stand one after the other on each side of a long stone chamber. The top of it lost in darkness. The dark green gloom obscures a lot of the upper area, so that it is harder to see these emerald eyes glancing down at us, as if Transfigured._

_They seem to move on their pillars._

_That is definitely a twitch of a tail. Before I have said anything Sirius has acted. He flings out the locket, opens it and yells at it. “Regulus! The stone serpents...stop them!”_

_ Regulus lets out more  _ _ of his  _ _ incomprehensible snakelike noise. I try stunning one when I notice that they aren't stopping. It works. There must be a trick. One after the other, Sirius and I speaking back to back, we cry  _ “Protego! _ ” at them- neither of us gets far, there are eight of them and we have dealt with three. Sirius go _ _ t _ _ two. I use the Impediment Jinx on another to no effect. “Finite Incantatem!” I spit at the five left and they all become docile and lay slackly on the cold stone floor. _

“ _They must have once been real snakes, to act like that. Are all you Slytherins so friendly as Salazar?”_

“ _You're in the house if not in the House,” I sneer at him. We thank Regulus, who liked my pun, and return him to the supposed safety under Sirius' collar._ _Sirius just shakes his head. Then he freezes. I turn to look at what he has spotted._

_The body of the Basilisk._

_ I hurry to it, sizing the length at twenty t _ _ o _ _ twenty five feet. I conjure specimen jars and phials and flagons and petri dishes with covers. Samples... something worthwhile from this trip. Not that a little danger did something for me. It's good to harness and surpass fear. It's very productive. I brought the dragonhide gloves and bag. _

_ It's mostly bone. It is on its back, the jaws widely spaced in its death. I siphon off the small, nearly invisible samples of venom. So rare, it's like it glows in my pocket in its rarity. A touch of what is left of the meat which is giving off a putrid sick-sweet smell. The hardened blood of the eye! Oh what a good day this is. The glands that held the venom seem long gone- but there is a black, hardened, thick paste that might house it.  _

_ Finally I am done gouging at the massive wreck of a serpent whose life was ruined far more  _ _ by Tom Riddle  _ _ than Ginny or Harry Potter's.  _ _ I hear a sound of scorn behind me. _

 

_~Sirius~_

_I thought we came down here to discover secrets not to ravage a cadaver._

“Sev really, aren't you done yet? This is disgusting. Let's vanish the thing and find out, if Slytherin's legacy consists of more than rotten meat.”

_It's strange, but I really want to discover the secrets of this chamber. I want to find proof that Reggie was right about the most amazing magic just waiting down here. Waiting for those who dare to understand. The Founders' true legacy, not the petty Dark stuff Voldemort was after. Severus has finally finished scraping dried blood and disgusting body parts._

“Dark Arts oddball, “ _I say chuckling. He swirls around to shoot me a deadly glare, then smirks._

“Moronic mutt, you have no idea what can be achieved with these rare samples.” _His eyes glitter with sheer joy and enthusiasm like a child's who has entered Honeydukes for the first time._

“Do whatever you want with it, but please, let's get rid of the remains. This dead old snake stinks.”

_We tackle the huge cadaver together and carry on casting Vanishing and Cleaning spells on puddles of poisonous Basilisk blood as we approach the big stone head at the end of the chamber. I get the feeling all the snake figures and ornaments we pass follow us with their eyes. They watch our steps warily, with apprehension rather than hostility._

_The face of Salazar Slytherin can't be called a piece of fine art, roughly carved and chunky. Not the noble face of a wise and learned sorcerer I'm afraid, but appearances can deceive as we know from the portrait several floors above. Regulus is wiggling in his locket frame. I hold him up to see face to face with his idol. The little one starts hissing and the dark stone eyes suddenly become alive. In answer to Regulus' respectful greeting, I assume it was a greeting, a soft hissing fills our ears and minds. It's entrancing and demanding at the same time. Regulus hisses back and so it goes, back and forth. Short hisses which might be orders, lengthy explanations, hesitant, calming, wary. Severus and I stand there, unable to understand what they are talking about, getting impatient. There's a pause in the Parseltongue conversation and Severus beats me at getting in between._

“Reg, I understand that this must be highly interesting to you, but would you mind to keep us informed what's going on?”

“Sorry Sev, he has a lot of questions. He wants to know who we are and what we want.”

“He's not the only one who has questions.” _A sure sign Severus is nervous. He gets snappy._ “Who or what is he, Regulus?”

_Regulus starts hissing again and the head seems to agree to what he says. It's hard to judge by the tone of the voices alone._

“Severus, Sirius, may I introduce you to the portrait of Salazar Slytherin, Founder of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, One of the Mighty Four? That's what he is. He calls himself the Keeper of the Chamber.”

_He pauses and Severus inclines his head to pay his respect._

“Severus Snape, Headmaster of Hogwarts, Member of Slytherin House.”

_I follow suit. There's no point to forgetting our manners._

“Sirius Black, Defence against the Dark Arts teacher, Gryffindor.”

_More Parseltongue, Reggie seems to object to something. I turn the locket to me. He seems hesitant to translate._

“He.... asks... he wants to know, if …. you are of true magic blood....”

_That bloody nonsense again. Severus tries to look untouched. How dare this stone portrait reject him, insult him? Severus is more Slytherin than all those pure- blooded arseholes who are my cousins and a thousand times more than the last miserable descendant of Slytherin's own blood-line._

“Tell him we're here! And if that's not proof enough we're real wizards, we can show him magic with our wands.”

_I have drawn my wand. Severus looks alarmed and Reggie's eyes are wide open. He swallows._

“Tell him what I've said! Now!”

_A moment of silence and then the chamber is filled with a roaring sound which must be the snake version of.... laughter._

_Reggie starts giggling as he listens to the next hissed answer._

“He says you certainly are of Godric's lot. Don't worry he trusts his own magic that bewitched the Sorting Hat. ….. You see those who came before us.... there were quite a few, all claimed to be his heirs. They came for his gold and asked for weapons to destroy their enemies. He gave them what they asked for. The last and greatest disappointment was the Dark …. Voldemort. He destroyed the guardian of the school and he almost destroyed the school itself. He won't give away his secrets again without a test.”

“We are ready to take your test, Salazar Slytherin.” _Severus voice is clear and determined and still there is this small trace of a smirk on his lips. Ready to take on the challenge? Any time._

“He will ask you three questions and if you answer them right, the secrets of the chamber are yours.”

_We look at each other and nod._

“Why have you come to this place?”

_Another exchange of looks and the answer is clear._

“We've come to learn magic.”

“What has been your guide on the way?”

_We both smirk,_ “A cunning mind and a daring heart.”

“What is at the foundations of Hogwarts?”

_There's not a moment's hesitation at that one._

“Hogwarts was built on real friendship.”

_It's a bit like we're landed in one of Regulus' old tales._

_Nothing could have prepared us for what happens next. The room vibrates and fills with a buzzing sound. What I thought were solid stone walls, mouldy, cold and wet, become transparent. Yards and yards of cabinets filled with books, scrolls of parchment and even Egyptian papyri behind green glass doors. No, not glass, glass can't break the light as these doors do, making rainbow coloured rays dance over the stone floor. They are made of thin-cut emeralds, engraved with serpents, ruby inlays for eyes. We are dazzled, speechless, wide-eyed and open-mouthed. Like boys in Honeydukes? Honeydukes, Quality Quidditch Supplies, Fortescue's, all at once. Like the moment when your wand chooses you, the moment you see Hogwarts' lighted windows from the lake for the first time ....._

“The usual procedure, Sirius?” _Severus tries to sound composed, but he is as excited as I am._

“At your signal.”

_We each turn to one wall of cabinets and at Severus' nod, we start casting Detection and Revealing spells. The head gives us an amused hiss. No disrespect meant, old chap, but we need to make sure that the snake handles won't bite us._

_There's powerful magic all over the place, but no traps. Some books are in chains like the ones in the Restricted Section of the library, but fewer than you'd expect. I remember Grandpa Arcturus said 'in most cases it's not the spell itself that is Dark, it's the mind of the wizard that makes it'. James said that was a cheap excuse for being allowed to use Dark Arts. I decided to trust his judgement. He knew; the Potters were a decent family unlike mine, Gryffindors for generations. If he was here, he probably had suggested to burn the whole library. “There's has never been anything good coming from Slytherin”_

_I don't want to destroy it. “We've come to learn magic.”_

“It's safe. I think we can now have a closer look.”

“Severus, Sirius, you know you are idiots, don't you? Why should he try to curse those who have come to learn from him?”, _comes Regulus' voice_ _from the locket._

 _Severus laughs._ “Other than you, Reg, we are alive and we fancy staying so. Let's get a rough overview. There's no way we can really see what is here in one day or even months.” _His voice is trembling with excitement. “_ Sirius, have you ever seen.....?”

“No, I haven't, Sev....” _I'm as excited as he is and pull at the handle right in front of me. The rolls of parchment rustle as if each wants to be the first to be read. I curse myself for having been to lazy to study the ancient languages. Much of this stuff is in letters I can't even identify properly. I put them back. Severus can deal with them. This one's in Old English; I can deal with that, an instruction how to build a castle over night. We're not in need of a castle right now._ _Conjure a mist to hide a whole army; a draught to make you speak in every human tongue – reading every language would come more handy; the incantation to open a way into the land of the dead – no thanks._

“Sirius! You've got to see this!”

_Severus is holding a parchment decorated with red, green and golden pictures of dragons and hounds and plants. The text looks like a bird has jumped into the ink well and run up and down._

“Sev,.... errr... you know Ogham is not my strong point.”

“ Cad Goddeu!” _The words sound familiar, but I raise my eyebrows waiting for an explanation I can understand. Severus shakes his head and sighs._

“The Battle of the Trees, you have heard of that?”

_Regulus squeals. Oh yes, I have heard of that. Regulus loved those stories. He even called the stuffed dragon he had at five-years-old Gwydeon._

“I know the story, you can get a decent translation in every Muggle book shop.”

“Not the story, you imbecile. It's the incantation! The spell Gwydeon used to raise the trees! The exact words he spoke! Written down by an eye witness.”

“You were lucky that Voldemort was more interested in murderous beasts than true learning. It had not been funny, if he had made the Forbidden Forest attack Hogwarts two years ago.”

_Severus' face has turned dead serious._ “We have been very lucky that he had never understood the true powers of this chamber, very lucky indeed.”

“Have you found anything useful? I mean not just battle spells?”

_Severus starts grinning._ “I have indeed. Something you will be most interested in.” 

_He hands me a Latin scroll and twinkles. The Useless Brew, I have searched for this so long, not to brew it, to know that it exists. I skim the list of ingredients, moonstone, two drops of the venom of a Gaboon viper, three tomato seeds, juice from deadly nightshade, hemlock, one pound of strawberries, three crushed oyster shells, rose oil...... nine scales of a basilisk......???_

_I grin at Sev._

“Now I know why you collected all that gruesome stuff. …. Wait! You've found the recipe in the book? Why didn't you tell me?”

_Severus shrugs._ “Must have forgotten about it.”  _Bloody smirking bastard!_

_I put the scroll back into the cabinet. There's a heavy volume on Mind Magic, obviously put together by Slytherin himself. I take it out and let my fingers trace the entwined snakes on the cover._

“Sev, here's something for you. Occlumency and Legilimency. “

_I'm about to pass it over when I see a few loose pages stick out. They are covered with the tiniest scrawl I've ever seen. It's extremely hard to decipher._

“ _.... been wandering through the deepest forests..... many days... haven't met the Incapables.... came through a small passage into a glen. ….Godric seems to like the place. … easy to defend... Rowena and Helga... decided to stay.... Merpeople in the lake.... friendly perhaps.... have to stay wary...”_

_There's no doubt what that is. I hand it over to Severus. He should read it first. The real story of the founding of Hogwarts. If this was the only secret in the chamber, it was worth it. Severus is holding Salazar Slytherin diary with trembling hands._

“Severus....,” _I say quietly._ “I have students for detention in about half an hour. Do you mind, if I leave you alone?”

_He looks up as if he only remembers now that I am here at all. His hands are still clutching the pages._

_I take the locket from my neck and put it in his hands._

“You may need Regulus' assistance, if you stay.”

_He nods._ “You will need my assistance to get out of here. Don't you remember that Fawkes flew them out last time?”

_I had almost forgotten about that. There must be another way to leave, must have been in the past, but we don't have time to search for it._

“Can you carry me up? Back to Myrtle's bathroom?”

_The confident smile again, so sure about his magic abilities._

“Put a Levitating Charm on yourself.”

_I do and he grabs me around my waist._ “Hold on to me!”

_We land softly on the tiled floor. Myrtle moans in her cubicle._

“I'll be in my office later. Next time you get only toast and tea, before flying.”

“Yes Headmaster. Send my brother, when you're back. “

_I watch him slowly hover down the pipe again. Back to the chamber and the secrets within._

 

 


	87. Sirius: Giving Detention

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all had given up on believing that we would still add to this, haven't you? I sincerely apologize for the long waiting.  
> We promised to finish this story and we will.

~Sirius~

  
The boys are already waiting in front of my office door. Slytherins on the left, Gryffindors on the right, they try to keep as much distance as possible. The Slytherins snigger at my sight. The Gryffindors look curious. Whenever we meet I don't seem to look like a respectable professor. I follow their eyes to the seams of my robes and cast a casual Scourgify.

“The headmaster gave me a tour of the castle.” I say much more to myself than addressing the boys.

  
“Have you seen the Weasley Swamp, Professor?” Thatcher asks a bit cockily.

  
The Weasley Swamp, of course I've heard about it. “No, I haven't... yet. Professor Snape obviously does not consider it a point of interest.”  
With that I turn to open the door ignoring the looks of curiosity; they are here for detention not story-telling.  
“Enter and get out your notes while I change.” I point them to the chairs.

In my bedroom Kreacher grumpily receives the robes and Disapparates. It just hits me that expecting they have notes to work on might be a bit optimistic. Would I have had notes? Hmhmm – not really. I would have made it up on the fly or relied on Remus' notes.

They have rolls of parchment on their laps when I return. I conjure a large sheet of paper to the wall. The names of the four boys each in one corner.

“Please write down the spells you've used and who you aimed for under your name.”

Silence, rustling of parchment, sidewards glances to each other. Nobody seems to be willing to start.

“Mr Thatcher, would you do us the favour...?”

“I didn't start the fight.” Thatcher pouts. “It was him. Wakefield!”

“Liar!” , hisses the accused.

I probably should be grateful that they don't have their hands in their pockets, clutching their wands.

“Mr Wakefield, would you please stand up, too and put the spells you have used under your name?” I say firmly, pretending I haven't heard the complaints.

The boys still grumble, but stand up and walk to their sides of the improvised blackboard. I have to hide a smile as they look very uncomfortable, standing so close to one another and unable to draw their wands in the presence of a teacher. They remind me so much of us during our school days. We were lucky that accidental magic mostly stops once you started Hogwarts. I guess Sev and James might have killed each other with looks, if they could. If I had not killed Sev earlier. These boys are not nearly as bad as we were. They are blinded by prejudice, but I doubt it's personal.

The list of spells looks pretty harmless. None of them explains the damage I've seen or the accusations of Dark Arts. Jelly Legs, Leglocker, a tongue-twisting jinx…

“You did not make leeks grow out of his ears! It was leeches! You stupid git!” Rothnie burst out. Mr Thatcher mutters something unintelligible and his ears turn a very nice tomato-red. He's obviously better at non-verbal veggie-charms.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     
“That was, because you hit him with that Babbling Curse!” Jenkins snaps. “What did you expect?”

“What did you expect, when you crossed my Shield Charm with your Blocking Spell?”

Jenkins stares at Rothnie and the corners of his mouth twitch a little. “Not that… Blimey, I had to dive behind an armour to dodge the shower of spell sparks going everywhere.”

“What are you complaining about? … We were hit by the full force... Our legs and arms were in a knot.” Thatcher and Wakefield butt in and look stunned by their sudden collaboration.

“Professor, can you explain what happened when the spells collided?”

“I think you already have an idea, don't you?”

Jenkins cocks his head, hesitating to share his theory or perhaps hesitating to show too much cooperation. “ I remember that the jets formed a triangle...”

“You mean a pyramid. It scattered the spells as crystal scatters light.” ,interrupts Rothney.

“The word you're looking for is prism. Yes, I think that's what happened. The two protective spells cast at exactly the same time met in a very rare and special angle which combined their effect, when the two jinxes hit them and triangle or pyramid shape worked like a prism. It broke Mr. Thatcher's Jelly Legs and Mr. Wakefield's Leg Locker Curse into a shower of magic sparks like a prism would do with sunlight.”

“That is actually a cool effect, if we could use it in duels intentionally. Can it be done on purpose, Professor? I never heard of it.”

“That's not easy to answer. Combined spells are very advanced magic. There's only an old tale that Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin were able to create such effects on purpose and very much to the dismay of their enemies. The story never got into details how they did it. It only said it was proof of power as wizards and their close relationship as friends.”

“… but they were enemies! Slytherin was a Dark Wizard! Everybody knows that and his lot hasn't changed since his days.”

I try to hide a smile at this all-to-familiar prejudice. “You should hear my brother on that topic. He has a completely different opinion on the true intentions of Salazar Slytherin and the great founders of Hogwarts.”

“Your brother? He's that funny portrait guy who played pranks on Filch in the third floor corridors, isn't he?”

I raise my eyebrows in mock disapproval. “I don't think I should want to hear about what he did to Mr Filch.” The boys chuckle, all four of them. I suppose I'd better avoid Argus for a few days. “Yes, my brother is a portrait that was drawn when he was not much older than you are.”

The boys' eyes have turned to the empty frame above my fireplace and now look at me questioningly.

“He's with the Headmaster today. You're not missing any of his antics.”

“There's a picture of him with the 1979 Slytherin Quidditch Team in our Common Room. He’s playing with the snitch from their winning match.”

I shake my head. “No, he’s probably playing with this snitch.” I hold up the one from my fourth year he had kept until his death. “He nicked it after he beat our team in his first game.”

“Your team? But wasn’t that the team Harry Potter’s father was in. Professor McGonagall said he never lost a cup.”

“Potter lost that match!”

I’m starting to believe Reggie has taken a leaf out of Voldemort’s book and put a trace on his name.

“Look what the cat dragged in. Mr Thatcher, Wakefield, Jenkins and Rothnie, may I introduce you to my brother...”

“Regulus Arcturus Black, pleased to meet you.”

The boys don’t seem to know what to make of Reggie. I can understand that. He’s different from the portraits they are used to. Too real, too close to life. I don’t know why that is, what kind of magic Sev has used to wake him up. Nothing dark, I’m sure of that, but…

“Has the headmaster sent you with a message or has he returned from… to his office?”

“Sev’s returned to his office and I’m not his owl. I’ve come to my own frame to stretch and...” , Reg’s grinning broadly. “I wanted to see the boys who try to follow in your footsteps.”

“Alright, now that you’ve seen them, are you going to be a decent portrait and fall asleep?”

“Can’t I just watch you?”

I’m not sure what he means by ‘just watch you’. He doesn’t seem to be able to stay quiet for more than five minutes nowadays. However the students seem to like the idea of keeping him around, both the Slytherins and the Gryffindors. So why not? Maybe he can really help.

“Let’s concentrate on the hexes again. Reggie, feel free to comment, too.” I turn to the students again. “Can you summarize what went wrong with your… duelling?”

“Mispronounced spells?” Thatcher suggests.

“Colliding Shield Charms?” Rothney adds.

“Bad aiming...”

“Getting caught by a teacher before you got to see Madam Pomfrey.” Reggie throws in, making all of them laugh.

Poppy’s secrecy saved our sorry hides more than once. She never ratted out to the teachers. … or did she and Dumbledore chose not to act? They must have known. James once suggested to name the bed in the right corner Black Ward and the bed in the left corner Snivel Ward. Seeing these boys now, I decide to make sure something like that will never happen again.

They are laughing, not at each other but with each other. That’s more than we ever managed. Rothnie and Jenkins have started discussing the unfortunate effects of their counter spells and Wakefield and Thatcher are joking about their hexes. I think I have reached my goal. I am looking forward to teach them. Maybe I will need Reggie’s help every now and then, to lighten the mood. I certainly will. There are too many rumours to let the students trust me without more proof, too much bad blood to make them trust each other.

They surprise me with their next question. “Professor, we think we have figured out the theory now.”  
“May we try it?”

“Remember you promised Sev that the valuable antique furniture in your office won’t be damaged.” Regulus can’t stop himself from chuckling.

I don’t manage to keep a straight face either and pretend to shiver in fear.  
“You heard my brother, no duelling in my office or we all face the wrath of the headmaster. None of us wants to risk that, do we? Do you know about the Come-and-Go room? I think a few years ago Harry Potter and his friends used it for duel practice. Let’s move there.”

The room provides us with all we need for target practice. It even has a painting on the wall for Regulus to join us. I need to ask Sev, if I can use it on a regular basis for safe duelling exercises. I know he wants me to teach the basics first, but the practical approach keeps the kids more interested.


	88. Severus: Tired

_ ~Severus~ _

 

_ Now I sit at my ease in the chilly room, knees apart and ankles crossed. I use a Scouring Charm to get rid of the remains of the basilisk from my cuffs. I bring out the samples and stare at them for a while, just stare. It's nice to have the imagination piqued by potions again. Sirius and the Useless Brew, dancing in my head like sparks from a Weasley comet.  _

 

_ Sirius and his detention, if any lion is a snake charmer he's it. And he's loyal to his own. Which is why I keep refraining from acting bitter about his friendship with Harry James Potter. I would not want him to call down any old friend or young friend from Slytherin house.  _

 

_ I have a feeling toward Draco not so different, having been one of the two witnesses at his Wizarding Birth Register Ceremony. If Lucius and Narcissa had gone, he would have come to me or the other witness. Bellatrix. Better to me than her, she's the bat in the equation. I gave the boy presents of books he was rarely able to resist. Yes, I hope Sirius has a good connection with his godson, he knows his heart better than I do. _

 

_ But I'm not going to be distracted from my new spell creation book. I had ignored the name of the author. Now I am stunned. In small rune script at the foot of the cover, by Antioch Peverell. And to boot, the A in Antioch is etched in the sign of the Deathly Hallows. _

 

_ Dumbledore told me the legend to see what I know. I told him I had learned of that certain wizarding secret through the Tale of the Three Brothers, that the dangerous, cunning, clever men had once existed, and now one of the high wizards of all ages' work is in my hands. _

 

_ I notice at once that my fingers are trembling. _

 

_ The gilt edges gleam is a welcoming way. My stomach is somewhere in my throat, banging away. _

 

_ Then I knew, knew what I found out time and again in my library at Spinner's End. This is dark magic. And it is such a temptation. Had Salazar's statue allowed dark objects to leave? Had he not learned better? _

 

_ Bracing for the worst, I open it. _

 

_ The runes in the content aren't known to me, and I was always O level in Study of Ancient Runes. It was handwritten, perhaps a code.  _

 

_ I know I will be rewarded f I manage to work out the symbols. If I can't manage it, I'll die in the attempt. I know I am going to die anyway, so I may as well throw myself into the words written. I wonder what it will achieve, swallowing me and leaving nothing but..... _

 

“No!” _I snarl, and grasp the book in a furious grip, and slam it shut with force such as_ The Monster Book of Monsters _never knew._

 

_ I rake my hair with tense, arched fingers. It's cool in here but the book is warm and almost breathing. Power, Knowledge, Death, all things I have tried to master, aimed at me all at once, as one. _

 

_ I'm panting. If I take the risk, I will know, The price is death. If I had nothing to live for, I would take the risk. But...I have a friendship  _ _ with Sirius  _ _ now that I won't risk for anything.  _ _ And no one, not even Antioch Peverell.  _

 

_ I _ _ 'm grateful Reggie wasn't watching that. I don't plan on sharing it with Sirius. It's a smooth b _ _ it _ _ of dark magic and I appreciate it, but only because I fought it. I respect it, but I do not want it. Some dark arts usage in the everyday tasks in inevitable and usually unnoticed. This is like a blast, pushing me back and then trying to suck me in.  _

 

_ I start grinding my teeth again. _

 

_ I can create my own spells. Not shoddy spells. My own! Not some second-hand magic that wants to destroy me for my curiosity... I look over to Alexi curled on a discarded travelling cloak. I think of Sirius. I look away. I point my wand at the book, and it hovers over the desk, scattering thousands of shiny wisps of silvery smoke into the air. It looks like silver tinsel snakes! Sirius. It's over. I lay my head on the desk. I'm spent and drifting off to sleep.  _

 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Snupin (not slash): The First Meeting](https://archiveofourown.org/works/218951) by [salazar_kat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/salazar_kat/pseuds/salazar_kat)




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